Concerning Jesuits
By Various Authors (Ed. by John Gerard, S.J.)
London Catholic Truth Society No.cts0014 (1902)
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Their Foundation and Their Constitutions
By the Committee R. de Courson.
On the 15th of August, 1534, seven men in the prime of life, students at the university of Paris, assembled in an underground chapel on the hill of Montmartre, sanctified by the martyrdom of St. Denis and his companions. Here the only one among them who was a priest celebrated Mass, and the seven took solemn vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience, to which they added a promise to put themselves at the immediate disposal of the Pope, to be employed by him for the greater glory of God.
The leader of the little band was a Spanish gentleman from Biscay, Don Ignacio de Loyola, once a soldier of determined courage and some renown, eager in the pursuit of martial glory. He had been converted by a sudden stroke of grace, and had then conceived the desire of founding an Order of men devoted to the service of God and the Church. His design had ripened during the years that followed his conversion - years of penance and prayer, of close communion with God, of ceaseless self-conquest and voluntary humiliation. Gradually there gathered around him a little group of men, students like himself, all of whom he had met at the University of Paris, where the once brilliant warrior, unskilled in book learning, came to learn the elements of literature and science. They were: Francis Xavier, James Laynez, Alphonsus Salmeron, and Nicolas Bobadilla, Spaniards like Ignatius himself; Peter Faber, a peasant from Savoy; Simon Rodriguez, a Portuguese. All were young, and possessed of remarkable gifts of intelligence; they had an ardent wish to devote their lives to the glory of God and the salvation of souls, and an implicit confidence in him whom they had chosen as their leader. Among them Xavier was perhaps the most remarkable for his unbounded generosity of soul and his power of winning the hearts and convincing the minds of men; Laynez for his splendid intellect; Peter Faber for his childlike innocence and angelic piety.
Six years later we find Ignatius and his followers, whose numbers had by this time increased, settled in Rome, where they devoted themselves to the service of the sick and poor. At the same time Ignatius was occupied in laying before the Holy See the plan and constitutions of his Institute, with a view of obtaining the Pope's approval and blessing on the new foundation. After some delay the Pope, Paul III., by the bull "Regimini militantes Ecclesiae," gave the new-born Society of Jesus the solemn sanction of the Church, September 27, 1540.
It is said that when he saw the plan of the Society and realized its object, the Pope exclaimed, "The finger of God is here!" and truly it seemed as though the Order of Jesus had been providentially called into existence at that special moment of the world's history. Only twenty years before, Martin Luther had raised the standard of rebellion against the doctrine of the Catholic Church, and his baneful influence had already spread throughout England, Sweden, Norway, and a portion of France and Germany. It seemed consistent with God's watchful providence that, in presence of the pressing dangers that threatened the Church, a new body of trained soldiers should be raised to fight her battles.
The Pope evidently realized to the full the providential use of the new Institute; only two years after he had given it his solemn approbation we find him sending its members as his representatives to Ireland and Scotland. A little later, in 1545, he gave them a still greater proof of confidence by appointing Fathers Laynez and Salmeron theologians of the Holy See at the Council of Trent. Other members of the Order were, about the same time, employed in Germany to defend the Catholic Faith against the so-called reformers.
It is easy to understand, after perusing the constitutions of the Society of Jesus, that the idea of St. Ignatius was to place at the service of the Church a body of soldiers always under arms and ready to be employed, according to circumstances, as missionaries, writers, theologians, teachers of youth, controversialists, preachers, or directors of souls. He was careful not to impose upon them the long vigils, fasts, and corporal penances, or even the recitation of the Divine Office in common, that form so distinctive a feature in the legislation of contemplative Orders; these practices would have been impossible to men whose duties were necessarily active and varied, but if he obliged his sons to few corporal penances he required from them absolute obedience and self-sacrifice.
The constitutions of the Society were drawn up by St. Ignatius with great deliberation, accompanied by fervent prayer; they give us a high opinion of the legislative and organizing capabilities of the soldier-saint. Each article was the subject of long and serious thought; we may mention as an example of this that he was in the habit of writing down on a piece of paper the different reasons for or against each resolution, and among his papers there was found one containing eight reasons written down in support of one particular view, and eighteen in support of another. After weighing calmly and dispassionately the different motives that presented themselves to his mind, he used to recommend the matter to God, "as though," says one of his biographers, "he had nothing to do but to write down what God should dictate." In one instance we are told that he prayed unceasingly during forty days for light upon one particular point.
Let us now briefly examine the different stages through which the holy founder of the Society leads its members. He begins by telling us that whoever desires to enter the Society should be ready to renounce the world and all possession and hope of temporal goods, to embrace any employment his superiors may think fit, to obey his superior in all things where there is no sin, and to "put on the livery of humiliation worn by our Lord." The noviciate of the Jesuits lasts two years, during which study is completely set aside; the novice devotes his time to the practice of poverty, humility, and self-denial. Then he makes his first vows, after which, continues St. Ignatius, "the foundations of self-denial having been laid, it is time to build up the edifice of knowledge." Hence the years that immediately follow the noviciate are employed in the study of literature, rhetoric, philosophy, natural sciences, history, and mathematics. This course of study is generally followed by five or six years of teaching boys in the colleges of the Society, and towards the age of twenty-eight or thirty the young Jesuit is sent to prepare for the priesthood. From a busy college life, with its daily routine of manifold duties and care for others, he is plunged into a course of study that lasts about four years, and during which all the powers of his intellect are called into play; towards the age of thirty-three, when his theological formation is completed, the Jesuit scholastic becomes a priest.
St. Ignatius is, however, not yet satisfied; a few years later, when the religious of the Society is still in the full strength of manhood, about thirty-six years of age, a priest, well grounded in study, trained to solid virtue, and having acquired a certain experience of men and things, he is sent to a second noviciate, where, just as in the first days of his religious life, he puts aside every kind of study and gives himself up solely to prayer and to the conquest of self.
During this "third year of probation," or second noviceship, he again goes through the spiritual exercises for thirty days, and at the close of this period of trial he pronounces his solemn vows, either as a professed Father or as a spiritual coadjutor. These two classes are on a footing of perfect equality in the Society; but the professed Fathers, having passed through full four years of theology and undergone certain examinations on the subject, may be said, in a certain measure, to constitute the very soul of the Society of Jesus, and a few posts of trust and responsibility are reserved to them alone.
With the same attention to details, St. Ignatius and his immediate successors regulated the number and length of the exercises of devotion to be performed by members of the Society. They imposed upon them a daily meditation of one hour, the celebration of, or the assistance at, Mass, a quarter of an hour's examination of conscience twice a day, a visit to the chapel after dinner, and in the evening a certain time to be spent in spiritual reading. These practices, short and simple, are suited to men whose occupations are necessarily varied and absorbing - men whose lot may be cast in a college, on a mission, among pagans or heretics, and to whom long hours of contemplation, or even the recitation of the Divine Office in common, must needs be an impossibility.
The same practical and legislative spirit reveals itself in the constitutions of the Order. It is governed by a superior or general, elected for life by an assembly called the General Congregation, to which belong the different provincials of the Society and two professed Fathers, who are elected by each province. The general is surrounded by councillors called assistants, belonging to different nationalities, and he also has an admonitor, whose duty it is to advise him on matters regarding his private conduct. The most implicit obedience is due to the General by all the members of the Order, who are free, if they desire it, to communicate directly with him. In his turn the General of the Society promises entire submission to the Pope.
The Society of Jesus is divided into provinces, each of which includes a certain number of houses and is governed by a provincial, assisted by consultors and an admonitor. Each house has a local superior, who likewise has his consultors and his admonitor, with whom he shares his responsibilities. At stated times the general received from the different provincials and also from the local superiors a detailed report of the province or house committed to his charge. The mainspring of the whole organization of the Society is a spirit of entire obedience: "Let each one," writes St. Ignatius, "persuade himself that those who live under obedience ought to allow themselves to be moved and directed by Divine Providence through their superiors, just as though they were a dead body, which allows itself to be carried anywhere and to be treated in any manner whatever, or as an old man's staff, which serves him who holds it in his hand in whatsoever way he will."
This absolute submission is ennobled by its motive and should be, continues the holy founder, "prompt, joyous, and persevering; ... the obedient religious accomplishes joyfully that which his superiors have confided to him for the general good, assured that thereby he corresponds truly with the Divine Will."
If the constitutions, so carefully drawn up by St. Ignatius, are in fact the code of laws that govern the Society, the book of the Spiritual Exercises may be justly regarded as its very soul, the fountain-head of the spirit that vivifies the whole body. It is, strictly speaking, a manual for Retreats, a collection of precepts and maxims, destined to help and guide the soul in the work of its sanctification and in the choice of a state of life. St. Ignatius composed it at Manresa, where, in the deep solitude of that wild retreat, he went back in thought over the struggles that had preceded his own conversion and recorded his personal experiences for the assistance and enlightenment of other souls. Thus it happens that, as its name tells us, the book of the Exercises is one to be practised, not merely read through; the spirit that breathes through its pages is an essentially active one, yet methodical and deliberate; only here and there, as in the meditation of the Two Standards, we are reminded that the writer was a soldier.
The Spiritual Exercises were carefully examined at Rome and formally sanctioned by a Bull of Pope Paul III., who declared the book to be "full of piety and holiness, very useful and salutary, tending to the edification and spiritual progress of the faithful."
One of the first acts of St. Ignatius was to forbid his sons to accept any ecclesiastical honours, unless compelled to do so by a special command of the Pope. In heathen countries only, where the episcopal dignity is often a stepping-stone to martyrdom, we find now, as in the past, several Jesuit bishops. Nevertheless the soldier-saint had his ambition: if he raised a barrier between his children and ecclesiastical dignities, he desired for them another gift, and it is a fact that he prayed that persecution and suffering might be their portion. On one occasion his favourite child, Peter Ribadeneira, met him coming from a long meditation, and, struck by his radiant look, questioned him familiarly, as was his custom. At first the saint smiled without answering; then, Ribadeneira having insisted, he said, "Well, Pedro, our Lord has deigned to assure me that, in consequence of my earnest prayer to this intention, the Society will never cease to enjoy the heritage of His Passion in the midst of contradictions and persecutions."
We may safely add that this petition of the founder of the Society of Jesus has been, and is still, fully granted.
The Jesuits as Teachers of Youth
Although their founder destined them to embrace every form of apostolic work, the Jesuits, from the outset, considered the education of youth as one of the chief objects of their foundation.
During the lifetime of St. Ignatius, Simon Rodriguez, one of his first companions, founded the college of Coimbra, in Portugal; the Duke of Gandia, the future St. Francis Borgia, established another in his ducal town of Gandia, and colleges were likewise founded at Messina, Palermo, Naples, Salamanca, and other towns.
St. Ignatius himself, with that attention to details we have already noticed, regulated the organization of the colleges of the Society, to whose prosperity he attached great importance. In Rome he took an active part in the foundation of the Roman and German colleges; the first, which was raised by the Popes to the rank of a university numbered 200 pupils from every part of the world in 1555; about thirty years later, in 1584, their number had increased to 2,107.
The professors of the Roman college were selected among the ablest members of the Order, and their classes were attended, not only by the Jesuit scholastics, but also by the students of fourteen other colleges in Rome. Seven Popes and many canonized saints may be numbered among the pupils of the Roman college; among its professors were men like Suarez, Bellarmine, Cornelius a Lapide, &c.
The German college in Rome also owes its origin to St. Ignatius - a fact recorded in the inscription on his altar: "Sancto Ignatio, Societatis Jesu fundatori, Collegium Germanicum auctari suo posuit." He had been deeply impressed on hearing of the ignorance of a large portion of the German clergy, who, being exposed to the continual attacks of the heretics, needed, more than any other, a solid religious and intellectual training. Supported by Pope Julius III., he founded in Rome a seminary for ecclesiastical students from Germany. It was inaugurated in October, 1552, and two centuries later 24 cardinals, 1 Pope, 6 electors of the Holy Empire, 19 princes, 21 archbishops, 221 bishops, and countless holy confessors were numbered on the roll of the German college, whose favourable influence over the German clergy it is impossible to estimate too highly.
The interest shown by St. Ignatius in the training of youth was continued by the generals who succeeded him in the government of the Society. Under Father Claudius Aquaviva, fifth general of the Order, a fresh impulse was given to the work of education. In presence of the injury caused to souls by the progress of heresy, the leaders of the Church deemed it doubly necessary to give the minds of the young a thoroughly Catholic training, and the Council of Trent, in one of its decrees, recognizes the ability of the Jesuits to fulfil this mission: "And if Jesuits can be had, they are to be preferred to all others," are the terms used in the decree.
In a few brief and simple rules, St. Ignatius himself laid down a programme for the intellectual formation of the young religious of the Society, who could only be fitted to teach others if adequately prepared to do so. He displayed a keen interest in the progress made by his sons in all branches of science and knowledge, and as at that time the Society had no house of its own in Paris, he sent a group of young scholastics to follow the courses of the university, under the direction of older and more experienced Fathers. Other Jesuit students were sent in the same way to Coimbra, Padua, and other learned centres; and we find the holy founder, with that attention to details we have already noticed, insisting that these young men from whom an arduous course of study was demanded, should, during that time, be particularly well fed and not overburdened with prayers and practices of penance. At the same time he reminds them that their motives in the pursuit of knowledge should be wholly pure and supernatural, as befits future apostles.
However, while laying down certain rules for the organization of the colleges of his Order, St. Ignatius had wisely refrained from making these regulations too numerous or irrevocable. He purposely left to his successors the task of completing them when time and experience should have tested the value of his method.
It was Father Claudius Aquaviva who undertook the achievement of the "Ratio Studiorum," or programme of studies, which was regarded at the time as the summary of the most excellent method of education of the day. The rare mental abilities and great personal holiness of Father Aquaviva, who governed the Order from 1581 to 1615, rendered him peculiarly fitted for a task which, under his direction, was accomplished with much prudence and care.
The "Ratio" was drawn up by six Fathers, who were chosen of different nationalities, in order that each one might bring the peculiarities of his national character to bear upon a method destined to be practised in every land. Their labours lasted about a year, after which the plan of studies compiled by them was submitted by Aquaviva to the examination of twelve Fathers of the Roman college, men of learning and experience. It was then sent to all the colleges of the Society to be tested by actual trial, three Fathers being appointed to remain in Rome in order to receive the observations which were forwarded from the different colleges where the "Ratio" was tried; the modifications and changes suggested by these observations were then discussed in presence of the general and his assistants, and after they had been duly accepted or dismissed the "Ratio" was again thoroughly revised and put into practice for another space of three years. At last, when every means had been used to make it as perfect as possible, every proposed change scrupulously examined, it was sent by Aquaviva to all the colleges of the Society where henceforth it was strictly observed.
Thus, with much thought, care, and wisdom, was compiled the "Ratio Studiorum," or plan of studies, of the Society of Jesus, a compilation of which Bacon has said, "Never has anything more perfect been invented."
It would take us too long to enter into a detailed account of the system enforced by the "Ratio"; let us only mention that the salient features distinguishing it from other methods in use at the time are the importance attached to the study of the classics and to the habitual use of the Latin tongue, the considerable place given to the professor's viva voce explanations, and the stress laid upon the necessity of developing a spirit of piety among the students at the same time as their mental powers are cultivated to the utmost. A modern French historian of the Society gives a spirited picture of the labours that the Jesuits, guided by the "Ratio Studiorum," have successfully accomplished in the cause of education. He tells us that the quantity of grammars, syntaxes, and books of education composed by them is "something marvellous." To the testimony of Bacon, which we have quoted, let us add that of d'Alembert, a most bitter enemy of the Order. "Let us add," he says, "in order to be just, that no religious society can boast of having produced so many celebrated men in science and literature. The Jesuits have successfully embraced every branch of learning and eloquence, history, antiquities, geometry, serious and poetical literature; there is hardly any class of writers in which they do not number men of the greatest merit."
Cardinal Richelieu, who in many instances opposed the Jesuits, possessed too keen an intellect not to value them as a body, and in his "Testament Politique" he pronounces their system of education to be superior to that of the university. More convincing still than these testimonies, to which many more might be added, is the enumeration of some of the great men educated by the Society of Jesus, among whom we find Popes like Gregory XIII., Benedict XIV., Pius VII.; saints like St. Francis of Sales; prelates like Bossuet, de Berulle, Flechier, Belzunce; poets and scientists such as Tasso, Corneille, Descartes, Cassini, Buffon; generals like Tilly, Wallenstein, Conde, and Don Juan of Austria; besides the Emperors Ferdinand and Maximilian of Austria and many princes of Savoy, Bavaria, and Poland.
Under Louis XIV. the famous Jesuit College of Clermont in Paris numbered from 2,500 to 3,000 scholars, and was regarded by the literary world of the day as one of the most brilliant centres of literature and science. The "Ratio Studiorum" has, as our readers may imagine, gone through many modifications since the days of Aquaviva; it was again revised under the direction of Father John Roothan in 1832, in order to bring it more in harmony with the necessities of the times, and since then, while preserving the spirit of the organization so carefully drawn up by their Fathers, the Jesuits of the present day have continued to make the different changes demanded by the ever-varying tendencies of our age.
The Jesuits as Missionaries
From their origin the Jesuits regarded missionary work as an essential part of their vocation, and the most popular of St. Ignatius's first companions, St. Francis Xavier, sailed for India a few months only after the solemn approbation of the Society by Pope Paul III. The history of his wonderful career is well known. In the brief space of ten years he preached the Faith throughout India and Japan, converted and baptized thousands of infidels, performed countless miracles, and died at last, in 1552, in sight of the shores of China, where he longed to plant the Cross.
With his extraordinary power over the minds and hearts of men, his sweetness, his charity, his devotion and courage, Xavier remains the very ideal of an apostle; Protestants, sceptics, and infidels have openly expressed their admiration for one whose spotless character commands their respect, while his extraordinary success as a missionary excites their wonder and admiration. Following on the footsteps of the "great Father," as he was commonly called in the East, a number of eminent missionaries of the Society spread the Faith far and wide, and many among them gained the martyr's crown.
During the lifetime of St. Ignatius, while Father Barzeus, Mesquita, and Cosmo de Torres were completing Xavier's work in India, another group of Jesuit missionaries proceeded to Brazil. One of these was Father Emmanuel Nobrega, a man of illustrious birth and eminent holiness, who, when he came in sight of the New World where he was to labour for Christ, raised his hand to bless the distant shore and intoned the Te Deum. Like St. Francis Xavier, he endeavoured, before converting the natives, to reform the morals of the European colonists whose vices impeded the progress of the Faith. Then, when this first result had been obtained, he set forth on foot and alone in search of the Indians, and, at the cost of much labour, he succeeded in forming Christian colonies where the hitherto wandering and lawless tribes were trained to habits of industry and virtue. More famous still was Father Joseph Anchieta, the "Thaumaturgus" of Brazil, who for more than forty years devoted himself to completing the work begun by Father de Nobrega. It was he who established the following rule of life in the Christian colonies, or reductions, as they were called: At daybreak the Angelus was said by the whole population, who afterwards assisted at Mass; this was followed by a brief explanation of the Catechism; then all dispersed to their different occupations till five, when a short instruction was given at the church, followed by a procession of the children. Like Xavier, Father Anchieta possessed the gift of miracles; he cured the sick and raised the dead. Like St. Francis of Assisi, he exercised an extraordinary power over the birds of the air, who used to perch fearlessly on his breviary or on his staff, and over the tigers and panthers, who came and went at his command. Father Anchieta died in 1597, but his work in Brazil was continued by his brethren. It is to be noticed that the Jesuit missionaries invariably proved themselves the defenders of the natives against the tyranny of their European conquerors. At the end of the seventeenth century Father Anthony Vieyra, an orator, diplomatist, controversialist, and scholar, was expelled from Brazil by the Portuguese on account of his courageous defence of the Indians. A Protestant writer describes Vieyra as holding a place "not only among the greatest writers, but among the greatest statesmen of his country," and the King of Portugal, Alfonso VI., fully recognized his merits. Not only was the exiled Jesuit favourably received at the Court of Lisbon, but he obtained from his sovereign an edict forbidding the Portuguese in Brazil to reduce the Indians to slavery.
The crowning glory of the Jesuit missionaries in South America is the foundation of the famous reductions of Paraguay, the organization of which has excited the warm admiration of Catholic, Protestant, and even infidel historians.
It was Philip III. of Spain who first authorized the Jesuits to organize Christian colonies in Paraguay, where, since the discovery of the country by the Spaniards in 1516, the unfortunate Indians had been cruelly oppressed. Thus supported by the king against the jealousy and ill-will of the Spanish officials, the Jesuits began, towards 1610, to found a certain number of colonies, each of which formed a miniature republic, whose civil chief was a "corregidor," named by the governor of the province and chosen among the Indians themselves. Except the missionaries, no European could reside within the reductions, but at the head of each colony were two Jesuits, nominally its spiritual chiefs; owing, however, to the peculiar organization of the reductions "they were," says Voltaire, "at once the founders, the legislators, the pontiffs, and the sovereigns of the missions." In all matters of spiritual jurisdiction they paid the utmost deference to the bishops in whose dioceses the colonies were situated, and with whom, as a rule, they lived in peace and harmony.
Although the Indians were capable of enduring great fatigue, they had an instinctive aversion from regular labour; the Jesuits had to teach them the first elements of agriculture: while some of the Fathers ploughed the ground, others might be seen sowing maize, barley, beans, and other vegetables, others cut down trees, others took long journeys to buy flocks of sheep, goats, cows, and horses for the use of the colony. The rule of life in the reductions of Paraguay was much the same as that established by Father Anchieta in the Christian colonies of Brazil; the day was divided between exercises of devotion and manual labour, but into this somewhat austere life the Jesuits, with a true knowledge of human nature, threw elements of brightness and gaiety. They took care that the churches should be adorned with pictures and prints that pleased the childlike taste of these primitive people; they carefully cultivated the Indians' taste for music, and taught them the use of the musical instruments then common in Europe; they celebrated the feasts of the Church by processions, illuminations, fireworks, banquets, games and tournaments, where the missionaries acted as umpires and distributed the prizes.
In order to enable their neophytes to repulse the not unfrequent attacks of the savage tribes that surrounded them, the Jesuits were authorized by the King of Spain and by the Pope to form the Indians into regular troops, on condition, however, that they were never to take up arms without the Fathers' permission. In a short time they succeeded in forming excellent troops, who at different times rendered valuable services to the royal armies of Spain. The Jesuits were at once the fathers, protectors, physicians, and teachers of their neophytes, and testimonies abound to prove the innocence and happiness enjoyed by the Indians under the rule of those who, during many years after their departure from Paraguay, remained enshrined in the hearts of a grateful people. The memory of their government has been handed down with loving gratitude, says a French traveller; and Buffon does not hesitate to say that "nothing ever honoured religion so much as the fact of having civilized these nations and founded an empire with no arms save those of virtue." Voltaire, a bitter enemy of the Society, as our readers know, owns that the settlements of the Spanish Jesuits in Paraguay "appear in some respects the triumph of humanity;" and Robertson, an equally impartial witness, recognizes that it is in the New World that the Jesuits "have exhibited the most wonderful display of their abilities, and have contributed most effectually to the benefit of the human species." Mr. Howitt, another English writer, is loud in his praise of their devotion, patience, benevolence, and "disinterested virtue;" and Chateaubriand considers that under their wise administration "the Indians might boast that they enjoyed a happiness without example on earth."
In North America, under circumstances somewhat different, the French Jesuits imitated the zeal of their Spanish brethren.
Henri IV. had committed to their care the missions of Canada, or New France, and the history of the apostles of the country, Fathers Lejeune, Bressani, de Jogues, Lallemand, de Breboeuf contains heroic examples of devotion. The wandering habits of the Indians made it extremely difficult to approach them, and the Fathers were obliged to follow them across the forests and plains, at the cost of unspeakable fatigue. Father Bressani, who landed in Canada in 1642, was made prisoner by the Iroquois, who cut off his fingers, hung him up by the feet, and burnt his hands: "I felt the pain keenly," he writes to his superiors, "but I had such interior strength to bear it that I was myself surprised at the power of grace." A similar fate awaited Father de Jogues, who in 1643 was also taken prisoner by the same wild tribe. During his captivity he contrived to baptize a large number of Indians; at last he was delivered, and, broken by the torments he had gone through, he returned to France. But his heart yearned for his beloved mission, and having returned to Canada, he was put to death by the Iroquois in 1646.
"The Catholic priest," writes Washington Irving, "went even before the soldier and the trader. From lake to lake, from river to river, the Jesuits pressed on, unresting." Their self-sacrifice had its reward, and even among the savage Iroquois we meet with heroic examples of sanctity; their native courage and endurance displayed itself in the extraordinary patience with which they suffered for the Faith. A neophyte named Stephen was taken prisoner by a heathen tribe, his fingers were cut off one by one, a lighted torch was thrust down his throat, and finally he was slowly roasted alive. He kept his eyes raised to heaven, and from time to time was heard to say, "My sins deserve yet more suffering; the more you torture me the greater will be my reward." This example is but one of the many traits of heroism that prove how deeply the Jesuits' teaching had sunk into the souls of their Indian converts. All through the American continent we find traces of the sons of St. Ignatius. The Jesuits landed in California in 1697. A Protestant writer observes that they not only "covered the sterile rocks of Lower California with the monuments of their patience and aptitude, ..." but that they also bequeathed to their successors "the invaluable lesson that nothing is impossible to energy and perseverance." One of the first missionaries in California was Father Salvatierra, an Italian, who, in hopes of gaining the Indians, ventured alone into their district with no weapon save a lute, on which he played with much skill. He used to sing, "In voi credo, o Dio mio," accompanying himself on his instrument, and by degrees the Indians would issue from their hiding-places and gather round him. When he had accustomed them to his presence, he began to explain the meaning of the words he had just been singing, and thus gradually he taught them the elements of the Christian Faith.
If from America we pass to Africa, we come across traces of Jesuit missionaries at an early date. During the lifetime of St. Ignatius, Father John Minez was sent to Ethiopia at the request of King John of Portugal, and in 1580 other Jesuits were dispatched to complete the work he had begun. One of these, Father Paez Castettan, converted Atznaf Seghed, Emperor of Ethiopia, but under the successors of this prince a violent persecution broke out against the Christians, and several members of the Society were put to death. In 1640 only one Jesuit remained in the country - Father de Noguera - but at the end of the same century, Louis XIV. sent Father de Brevedent to Ethiopia, and Father Claude Sicard was appointed superior of the Jesuit mission at Cairo. Father Sicard was a man of remarkable talent, and the French scientific academies requested him to pursue his researches upon the antiquities of Egypt. With the full approval of the father-general, he made several most interesting journeys in the interior of the country, visited the cataracts of the Nile, Memphis, Thebes, and the Red Sea, and explored the deserts of Scete and Thebaid. The result of these journeys were voluminous memoirs upon the antiquities of Egypt, which were to be followed by a complete work on the subject; but death prevented Father Sicard from achieving an undertaking eagerly desired by the scientific world. In the midst of his labours in the cause of knowledge, he never forgot that he was a missionary; he devoted himself especially to the conversion of the Copts, whose language he had thoroughly mastered, and he died, a martyr of charity, while nursing the sick during a pestilence that had broken out at Cairo, in 1726.
In the meantime, on the western coast of Africa, in Senegambia, Guinea, and Congo, other members of the Order were engaged in apostolic labours; at Angola and Congo, they founded colleges, and at Loando they established an association for the assistance of shipwrecked sailors.
From the time when St. Francis Xavier first planted the Cross in India, numbers of missionaries of the Society devoted themselves to complete his work. It is impossible to mention them all, but among them let us notice Father Robert de Nobili, whose strange and touching story is an example of the facility with which the Jesuit missionaries adapted themselves to every sort of custom in order to gain souls to Christ. He was of an ancient family, closely related to the Popes Julius II. and Marcellus II., and when, at the age of twenty-eight, he arrived in India he found the missionaries greatly distressed and perplexed at the fruitlessness of their efforts to convert the Brahmins, or priests, and the members of the learned classes among the Hindoos. As our readers know, the different castes in India were, and are still, in a certain measure, divided by almost invincible barriers, and the Jesuit missionaries of the seventeenth century who devoted themselves chiefly to the Pariahs and Choutres, or lower classes, were thereby debarred from all possible communication with the Brahmins, or priests, and learned men. Frequently it happened that the Brahmins, although anxious to learn more of Christianity and even inclined to embrace its teachings, refused to do so because its preachers associated with those whom they regarded as degraded. Father de Nobili was moved with pity for the proud race, whom their hereditary prejudices shut out from the blessings of faith and knowing well that time and patience could alone destroy the institution of castes, he determined, in the meantime, to become a Brahmin himself, and to renounce all intercourse with Europeans and with members of the lower castes.
Convinced that by this means alone could he hope to reach the Brahmins, Father de Nobili announced his project to his religious and ecclesiastical superiors, and having obtained their approval he adopted the dress and manners of a Brahmin and separated from the other Jesuits, who had lost caste by mingling with the Pariahs. He lived, like the native doctors and learned men, on rice, herbs, and water, prayed and studied all day, and received no visits save from the Brahmins. By degrees his sacrifice was rewarded, and at the end of a few years his church was too small to contain the converts he had made. Father Anthony Vico writes thus to the Father-General Aquaviva after visiting Father de Nobili and his converts: "However exalted was the opinion I formerly entertained of Father Robert's capacity for the work of converting the heathens, it was far below the reality." In the space of a few years Father de Nobili and his colleagues baptized over 100,000 idolaters, belonging to the hitherto inaccessible caste of the Brahmins. Like many heroic souls, whose vocation lies apart from the beaten track, Robert de Nobili had to encounter the suspicions and attacks of his fellow-Christians, who accused him of tolerating superstitious practices among his disciples. In 1618 he was summoned to Goa to present his defence. Strange to say, some of his own brethren received him harshly, while the Archbishop of Craganore, his ecclesiastical superior, stood by him throughout. He came out of the ordeal with flying colours: his modesty, humility, and gentleness convinced his opponents of his sanctity; his clear defence of his conduct successfully asserted his innocence; and, in 1623, a Bull from Pope Gregory XV., to whom the matter had been referred, authorized him to pursue his mode of life.
The history of the Jesuit missions in China present incidents scarcely less interesting.
Nature and art had alike contributed to render China difficult of access to strangers; its coasts were defended by a multitude of shoals and rocks, while on the land side it was guarded by the famous wall. At different times the missionaries of the Society made vain attempts to penetrate into a country whence strangers were jealously excluded; for many years their efforts were useless, and they had to remain at Macao, on Portuguese territory. It was Father Ruggieri, an Italian, who first succeeded in penetrating into the province of Canton; his companion was a young religious, named Ricci, of whom an English writer has said that he united "prudence, constancy, and magnanimity of soul; profound genius, cultivated by the most famous master of the age; delicacy and refinement of taste, unwearied industry and habitual mortification."
A pupil of the famous Jesuit mathematician, Father Clavius, whom his contemporaries surnamed the "Christian Euclid," Father Ricci's learning was the means of obtaining for the Jesuit missionaries a firm footing in China. By degrees his knowledge of astronomy and of mathematics excited the admiration of the Chinese literates; he was able to found a mission at Tchao-tcheon, then at Nan-tchang, whose inhabitants were entirely devoted to study and science. But these first results were not attained without months and years of struggle, difficulty, and danger, and the story of Ricci's perseverance in face of almost insuperable obstacles, reads like a romance. His great desire was to reach Pekin, the residence of the emperor, for he felt that until they were formally authorized to settle in China by the sovereign the missionaries were at the mercy of the fanaticism or jealousy of any petty official. After several fruitless attempts, one of which ended in six months' close captivity, Ricci at last succeeded in reaching Pekin. The emperor's curiosity had been aroused by the reports he had heard of the stranger's mathematical knowledge. In January, 1601, Ricci and his companions arrived in the imperial city, and obtained the emperor's permission
The Destruction of the Society in Portugal, France, Spain, Naples, and Parma
The destruction of the Society in these countries towards the latter part of the last century was the natural result of the infidel and freethinking spirit which had spread throughout Europe. The enemies of the Church aimed their first blows at the Order, which they considered as its bodyguard, and in order to render its destruction more complete, they spared no means to wrench from the Sovereign Pontiff a decree that should complete their work. Hence the destruction of the Order of Jesus is a testimony rendered to its value in the service of the Church. Its members had the honour of exciting the hatred and terror of the freethinking philosophers, whose spirit had penetrated among the political men of the day.
The storm that, for a time, was to overwhelm the Society of Jesus, arose in Portugal, where, in 1750, Joseph I., a prince of weak character and depraved morals, ascended the throne. It was at the instigation of a Jesuit, Father Moreira, that he named to the post of Secretary of State, Sebastian Carvalho, Marquis of Pombal. "Never," says a Jesuit writer, "was meddling with things outside the sphere of duty more terribly punished." The new minister was a man of iron will, whose hatred towards the Church was deep-seated. He desired nothing else than to establish a national and schismatic Church in Portugal; the Jesuits stood in the way of his projects, hence he resolved to destroy them.
He proceeded with great caution, gradually poisoning the mind of the king by giving him books to read against the Society, while he caused the same to be spread throughout the country. Then he began a system of petty vexations against the Fathers, and succeeded in exiling from Lisbon those whose influence he had cause to fear. In the colonies he pursued the same line of policy, and under his patronage an apostate monk named Platel published a memoir wherein they were accused of making their apostolic mission a pretext for commercial transactions. The book was condemned by Benedict XIV. in 1745, but, nothing daunted, twelve years later, in 1757, Pombal sent the Pope a long list of accusations against the Society, and petitioned that a visitor might be named to reform the Institute. Had the wily minister openly betrayed his hatred towards the Jesuits, it is probable that, aged and sick unto death though he was, Benedict XIV. would have summoned energy enough to defend those whom over and over again he had warmly praised, but, deluded by Pombal's affectation of zeal, overpersuaded by Cardinal Passionei, an adversary of the Society, exhausted by a mortal illness, the Pope yielded, and entrusted Cardinal Saldanha, a protégé of Pombal, with the task of reforming the Institute in Portugal. He died a month later, on the 3rd of May, 1758, after earnestly requesting Saldanha to act with discretion, to be on his guard against the undue influence of the enemies of the Order, and, above all, to take no decision regarding the Jesuits, but simply to address a report of his mission to the Holy See.
Saldanha's conduct was in direct opposition to the injunctions given to him by the dying Pontiff. He proceeded with unheard-of violence and publicity, and without supporting his assertion by a single proof he declared that the Fathers of the Society in Portugal were guilty of carrying on commercial transactions contrary to canon law. The Jesuits' papers were given up to be examined, but not a single indication was discovered that could substantiate Saldanha's assertion.
The same year, 1758, the General of the Society, Father Centurioni died in Rome. A new pilot took his place at the helm of the tempest-tossed bark of the Order of Jesus about the same time as a new Pope ascended the Papal throne. The two were very different. Lorenzo Ricci, the new General of the Society, was a man of illustrious birth, of cultivated mind, great personal holiness, and a gentle disposition that made him little fitted for the stormy scenes, where even the high courage of Ignatius or the genius of Aquaviva might have succumbed. Ricci had the patient endurance that suffers without a murmur rather than the militant energy that struggles to the end.
The new Pope, Carlo Rezzonico, a Venetian, who took the name of Clement XIII., was, like Ricci, a holy and mortified priest; he had a warm heart united to an inflexible courage whenever his principles were at stake, and the story of his stormy reign is at once pathetic and admirable. He had to defend the Society of Jesus against the combined efforts of Pombal in Portugal, Choiseul in France, d'Aranda in Spain, Joseph II. in Austria, Tanucci in Naples, who, all united by a common spirit, had sworn to destroy the Order, whose chief crimes were its influence over the minds of men and its devotion to the Church.
In this formidable league of the courts of Europe against a religious order, Pombal led the way. An attempt having been made to assassinate the King of Portugal, he strove to implicate the Jesuits in the plot, and though no proof, even the slightest, was ever brought forward against them, they were imprisoned, several of them tortured, and finally, in 1759, they were in a body banished from the kingdom, amid circumstances of peculiar cruelty. In vain Clement XIII., who had already written to the Catholic bishops of the world to praise "the religious, who have deserved so well from the Church and the Holy See," appealed to the king's sense of justice. Joseph was only a tool in the hands of Pombal, and the Jesuits of Portugal and the colonies were huddled on board ship like the vilest malefactors, and after enduring untold tortures were thrown on the coast of Italy.
In spite of the efforts made by Pombal to ruin the Society in the minds of the people of Portugal the cruel and arbitrary measures used against the Fathers excited the popular indignation, and, in hopes of casting still further discredit upon those whom he hated, Pombal caused Father Malagrida, a venerable missionary, to be publicly executed at Lisbon as a heretic. The tribunal that condemned him was composed of men chosen by Pombal; the books upon which the accusation rested were not the work of Malagrida; and the charge against one so venerable and holy was universally disbelieved, even by the freethinking philosophers themselves.
Thus the Society of Jesus was destroyed in the country where, since the days of John and Francis Xavier, an unbroken friendship had existed between the sovereigns and the sons of St. Ignatius. In the year following the expulsion of the Jesuits in 1760, the king withdrew his ambassador from Rome and expelled the Papal nuncio from Lisbon.
In France the Society of Jesus had to face not only the enmity of one man, but that of the Jansenists and of the philosophers, who combined to bring about its destruction. A Protestant writer, Ranke, attributes their hatred to the fact that the Jesuits were "the most formidable bulwark of Catholic principles," and therefore most hateful to men who, like Voltaire and d'Alembert, wished to destroy the Church itself, and who felt that to attain this end they must first crush those whom d'Alembert styles "the grenadiers of fanaticism." The plans of the Jesuits' enemies were served by the weakness of Louis XV., whose sense of right and justice was blunted by a life of shameful immorality and by the influence of Madame de Pompadour, who hated them because, as d'Alembert himself confesses, she resented their "extraordinary severity" in refusing to admit her to the Sacraments as long as she continued her evil life. Unfortunately, also, just at a moment when the position of the Society was most delicate and dangerous, Father de Lavalette, superior of the Jesuit house of la Martinique, directly violated the rules of his order by embarking in various speculations which failed. He was declared a bankrupt, and some of his creditors brought an action against the French Jesuits.
Although Lavalette publicly testified that he had acted without the knowledge of his superiors, who protested against his conduct, expelled him from the Society and refunded the money he had caused others to lose, it cannot be denied that this unfortunate occurrence was made use of by the enemies of the Order.
The Parliament of Paris, who had always been more or less hostile to the Jesuits, now began to examine their constitutions with a view to modify them, in spite of the remonstrances of the Pope. In 1761 an assembly of the clergy took place, in order to deliberate upon the doctrines of the Society, which the Parliament, thereby exceeding its attributes, had condemned. Out of the fifty-one bishops present, all, with one exception, demanded that the Jesuits should be maintained in France, and the solitary prelate who voted against them — the Bishop of Soissons — declared them to be regular and austere in their morals.
Here, again, we have to note a fault on the part of one member of the Society. In order to conciliate the bishops and the Parliament, and also to please the king, Father de la Croix, provincial of the Paris Jesuits, consented, in 1761, to sign an act of adhesion to the four articles of the declaration of the clergy in 1682. The spirit of these articles was hostile to Rome. Louis XIV., under whose inspiration they had been drawn up, had never obliged the Jesuits to sign them, and after his own reconciliation to the Holy See he had even repealed the decree that made them obligatory.
Father de la Croix's act of weakness, of which Père de Ravignan writes, "I deplore and condemn it," was blamed by the Pope, the general, and the Jesuits of the other provinces, and so little did it ensure to the Paris Fathers the king's protection that a few months later — in April, 1762 — Louis XV. allowed the Parliament to close the famous college of Louis le Grand. In vain, in the month of May following, did the French bishops and clergy present to the king an eloquent appeal in favour of the Society. Louis was governed by Madame de Pompadour and Choiseul, and henceforth, in spite of the warm friendship of the queen and the dauphin for the Jesuits, the work of destruction proceeded rapidly. On the 6th of August, 1762, the Parliament of Paris declared the doctrines of the Society to be blasphemous and heretical, and decreed that its members should be expelled from the kingdom, that their churches and libraries should be confiscated.
Out of the four thousand religious who were struck by this extravagant decree, only twenty-four consented to leave the Order; the rest remained faithful to the rules of the Society and prepared for the worst.
The Protestant historian Schoell has observed that this decree, drawn up under the influence of blind prejudice, "cannot fail to be condemned by all honest men." It was declared null and void by Clement XIII., and excited the indignation of all that was best in France.
The Archbishop of Paris, Christophe de Beaumont, in a splendid protest, triumphantly refuted the charges brought against the Society — an act which caused him to be exiled, while his pastoral was publicly burnt. In November of the same fatal year, 1762, Louis XV. gave his sanction to the decree, and in the month of January following Pope Clement XIII., who till then had made use of every means of persuasion to strengthen the king's vacillating will, gave vent to his just indignation, and in the Bull "Apostolicum" publicly proclaimed that the Institute of Jesus was "pious and holy."
Through the influence of the dauphin the French Jesuits, although reduced to poverty, narrowly watched and forbidden to live in community, continued to remain in the kingdom with that tenacity which is one of the characteristics of the Order; but in 1765 their protector, the dauphin, died, and in 1767 a new edict of the Paris Parliament obliged them to leave the country.
After witnessing the destruction of the Society in Portugal and in France, it remains for us to witness the same mournful spectacle in the native land of the soldier-saint.
Charles III. of Spain, unlike the sovereigns of France and Portugal, was religious and moral, but his morbid disposition and narrow intellect rendered him easily accessible to the influence of his minister, d'Aranda, the close ally of the French freethinking philosophers and of the minister Choiseul, who, says the historian Sismondi, made a personal affair of the destruction of the Jesuits.
In dealing with a sovereign religious, timid, scrupulous, and credulous as was Charles III., d'Aranda had to adopt other means than those employed in France and Portugal by Choiseul and Pombal, and he involved the king in a series of mysterious misrepresentations which it is hard even now to unravel. However, historians like Ranke, Coxe (in his Spain under the Bourbons), Sismondi, Schoell, Adam (in his History of Spain), agree in their version of these dark machinations, and the traditions of the Society point the same way. It is believed that a letter supposed to be written by Father Ricci, but which was really the work of Choiseul, was laid before Charles III. In this letter the General was made to say that he possessed documents that proved Charles III. to be illegitimate, and therefore unlawfully in possession of the crown. The king, proud and reserved, morbidly sensitive and suspicious, fell into the trap, and allowed his ministers to take their measures for the suppression of the Jesuits throughout Spain. These measures were surrounded by the deepest mystery: secret despatches were sent by the king to the authorities in Spain and in the colonies; on the 2nd of April, 1767, in all the Spanish possessions the Jesuits were arrested, led to the nearest port, placed on board ship, and their possessions confiscated. No attempt was made to give even an appearance of legality to these violent measures; the king simply stated that he had secret and pressing motives to act as he did.
The scenes of anguish that followed are heartrending to read. The six thousand Spanish Jesuits scattered throughout the country and its colonies were torn from their missions and colleges, without being suffered to ask for an explanation or offer a defence. Their resignation is commented on by all the historians; in Paraguay, where a word of murmur coming from their lips might have brought about a revolution, they displayed, says Sismondi, "a calmness and firmness truly heroic."
A few days later Clement XIII. wrote Charles III. a beautiful letter, every line of which breathes righteous indignation, united to a spirit of justice and paternal affection. In it he entreated the king to reveal to him the secret of his conduct, and touchingly reproaches "the most Catholic king" with adding to the sorrows that already saddened his old age! Charles III. having refused an explanation, even to the Pope, Clement XIII. then issued a brief in which, after condemning the treatment of the Jesuits, he solemnly warned the king that he thereby imperilled his own salvation.
Choiseul, having obtained from Charles III. the expulsion of the hated Jesuits, now proceeded to exercise a similar pressure upon the sovereigns of Naples and Parma. At Naples Ferdinand IV., young and weak, was persuaded to sign the decree of expulsion by his minister, Tanucci, a man of the same stamp as Aranda and Choiseul. The duchy of Parma was governed by an Infant of Spain, whose minister, Felicio, an open freethinker, succeeded in obtaining a similar concession from his sovereign; but Clement XIII., in virtue of his long-established rights, was liege lord of Parma, and he now claimed a right long fallen into disuse, and, by a Bull dated January 30, 1768, he annulled the edict of the Duke of Parma against the Society.
This courageous act was punished by the seizure of Avignon by France, and of Benevento, also a Papal possession, by Naples, and, ere long, a formal petition was addressed to the Pope from the courts of Portugal, France, Naples, Parma, and Spain, demanding the utter suppression of the Society. The Jesuits' enemies knew the vitality of the Order, and they felt that the work of destruction would be incomplete if not sanctioned by Rome.
The Pope remained firm, his heart was torn with sorrow, and we read that he frequently shed tears over the misfortunes of those whom he loved and valued as the trusted soldiers of the Church, but his will was undaunted and the threats and pleadings of the Bourbon sovereigns and their ministers were unable to shake his determination.
But if his brave spirit remained firm, his physical strength broke down under the pressure of anxiety and sorrow: on the 2nd of February he died almost suddenly, and its last earthly defender was taken away from the Order of Jesus.
Suppression of the Society and Its Subsequent Restoration, 1773-1814
The Jesuits now stood defenceless before their relentless foes: the one arm that had ever been stretched out to defend them was chilled by death.
Their fate evidently depended upon the choice of a new Pope as the Bourbon courts had resolved to spare neither threats nor promises to ensure the election of a Pontiff on whose docility they could count. The story of the Conclave of 1773 is a mournful one enough, with its intrigues and machinations, the vain efforts of a small group of cardinals to resist the formidable pressure exercised from without, the weakness of the rest in yielding to that same pressure.
The struggle was a long one, but at last, on the 19th of May, a Franciscan, Cardinal Lorenzo Ganganelli, was elected to the Papal throne.
He was a man of blameless life, an exemplary religious, and had never shown himself otherwise than friendly towards the Jesuits, who, on their side, have dealt pitifully with the memory of a Pontiff more sinned against than sinning. It seems clear that Ganganelli yielded to a temptation of ambition when he accepted the Papal tiara and, in order to obtain it, tacitly consented to suppress the Society of Jesus.
He probably did not realize the full meaning of the promise he then made, and hoped that, by small concessions and an able policy, he might save the Society without forfeiting the favour of the Bourbon sovereigns.
Later on he understood the meaning of the engagement he had taken, and, convinced at heart of the innocence of the Jesuits with whom he had always been on good terms, he suffered a moral agony before perpetrating an act which his conscience reproved but which his weakness of character prevented him from resisting.
The Pope tried from the first to conciliate the sovereigns, hoping to gain time and to elude the fulfilment of his fatal promise, but Pombal, d'Aranda, and Choiseul were not to be deceived, and they persisted in demanding the destruction of the Institute, without any compromise. He defended himself with a pathetic helplessness: "I cannot," he urges to Choiseul, "blame or destroy an Institute, which nineteen of my predecessors have praised and the Council of Trent has approved."
He proposed to assemble a general council, where the affair should be examined and, at least, begged for a delay before proceeding to the suppression.
To these pleadings and proposals the sovereigns replied by demands that became every day more imperious. Spain threatened a schism, and sent as her envoy to Rome Florida Blanca, whose interviews with the Pope were a source of terror to the latter. Sometimes driven into his last retrenchments, the unhappy Pontiff, after pleading his failing health, piteously begged to be spared from committing a deed of iniquity; now and then he seemed to recover his dignity, and once, Florida Blanca having promised him that Benevento and Avignon, which had been taken from the Holy See, should be restored if he yielded, he indignantly exclaimed: "A Pope governs the souls of men, but does not buy or sell them!"
But these flashes of energy were short-lived, and when Maria Teresa of Austria, who till then had supported the Society, joined the league against it, at the instigation of her son Joseph II., the unfortunate Pontiff bowed his head. He was alone against the crowned heads of Europe, to whom by his fatal promise he had given a weapon which they unmercifully used against him.
While these events were passing, the Jesuits, who fully realized the deadly peril that threatened their Order, maintained an attitude absolutely passive. They were forbidden to enter the Pontifical palace, and the proceedings against them were surrounded by secrecy.
As the Pope steadfastly refused to admit them into his presence, they had no means of presenting a defence or an appeal to his sense of justice, and Father Garnier, Assistant for France, writes that even if they had drawn up a petition, no one would have dared present it for them.
The silence observed by the doomed Order on the eve of its destruction contrasts strangely with the remarkable vitality of its members in past times. For two hundred years they had borne a conspicuous part in every religious discussion and in many political events throughout the Christian world. The Institute that had furnished writers, controversialists, theologians, learned and holy men in such numbers, still possessed many eminent subjects, but not a line was written, not a voice was raised among them in defence of their Order. Respect towards the Holy See obliged the sons of the soldier-saint to a passive resignation, little in accordance with the militant spirit of their Society.
At length the end came. On the 21st of July, 1773, just as at the Gesù the bells were ringing in honour of the annual novena preparatory to the feast of St. Ignatius, Clement XIV. signed the Brief: "Dominus ac Redemptor noster," suppressing the Jesuits throughout the Christian world. It is said that, having completed the fatal act, the Pope fell senseless on the floor; the next day he kept repeating, in despairing tones: "My God, is there no remedy!"
On the 16th of August, 239 years and one day since the foundation of the Society in the crypt at Montmartre, the Brief was carried into execution in Rome, the houses and papers belonging to the Jesuits were seized, the Fathers removed to different religious houses, and the general imprisoned in the Castle of St. Angelo.
As the Protestant historian Schoell observes, the Brief of Suppression is especially remarkable because it condemns neither the doctrine, nor the morals, nor the discipline of the Jesuits. The complaints of the courts against the Order are the only motives alleged for its suppression. The Pope enumerates the accusations brought forward against the Order without either denying or confirming them, and he lays stress upon the disturbance caused by the existence of the Society and upon the demands addressed to him to obtain its suppression: in this last paragraph lies the keynote to the Brief.
The courts of Spain and Naples considered the tone of the document as too lenient and moderate; in Rome it excited the disapproval of those cardinals who were not the tools of the Bourbon courts, and the indignation of the people who despised the Pope for his weakness. In France the Archbishop of Paris, Christophe de Beaumont, declined to accept a Brief, which, he argued, had been issued by compulsion, and which directly contradicted other Pontifical documents which declared the Order of Jesus to be holy and useful to the Church. As for the Jesuits themselves, they one and all submitted with unquestioning obedience, Father Ricci giving them a noble example of silent resignation.
On the 2nd of September, 1774, a year after the suppression, Clement XIV. breathed his last. His two immediate successors, Pius VI. and Pius VII., expressed their conviction that his brain actually gave way under the weight of sorrow and remorse; he had himself been heard to say that the suppression of the Society would cause his death, and it is touching to note the pitying respect with which the historians of the Order handle his memory.
The Conclave that followed was very different from the one that had raised him to the Papal throne, and the cardinals, instructed by experience, no longer allowed themselves to be unduly influenced by the courts. On February 15, 1775, they elected Cardinal Angelo Braschi, who took the name of Pius VI. Although the jealous watchfulness of the sovereigns hampered his freedom of action, Pius VI. mitigated, as far as he was able, the captivity of Father Ricci, who was still a prisoner, but rest and comfort such as the world could not give him were soon to be the lot of the suffering general of the once mighty Society. On the 24th of November, 1775, Father Ricci expired, after having read, in presence of his jailors and fellow-prisoners, an admirable protest, at once submissive and dignified, resigned and high-minded, full of forgiveness and charity, yet breathing a spirit of heroism which proved that its author, in spite of his natural meekness, was the worthy successor of the soldier-saint of Loyola.
Meantime, the Bull of Suppression was carrying sorrow and dismay throughout the Christian world. Cardinal Pacca tells us that in Germany it caused an immense injury to religion and lowered the Holy See in the minds of the people; in Poland and Switzerland the Jesuits themselves were, for some time, the only ones to accept it. The English Jesuits, driven out of St. Omer by the French Government, continued, as secular priests, to direct a college at Liège, where the prince-bishop was their friend; at Lucerne, Fribourg, and Soleure they were forced by the inhabitants to do the same. At Fribourg they assembled to pray for Clement XIV. on hearing of his death, and publicly requested those who had loved the Society to abstain from irreverent comments on his memory.
The result of the Brief in the missions was even more disastrous than in Europe. The Jesuits immediately submitted, but their neophytes' indignation was painful to witness and difficult to calm. In India and in China they relinquished without a murmur the missions that had been watered by the blood of so many martyrs of their Order, and that seemed almost to them like a family heritage. The Lazarists, who were sent to take their place, bear witness to the resignation and simplicity with which old men, grown white in missionary labour, abdicated their post with the simplicity of children.
In two countries of Europe only was the Brief of Suppression absolutely rejected, and strangely enough the sovereigns who forbad its publication were the Protestant Frederick II. of Prussia and the schismatical Empress Catherine of Russia. Clement XIV. could not exact the obedience of monarchs outside the pale of the Church, and the Prussian bishops sheltered themselves behind their sovereign's desires and declared themselves powerless to enforce the Bull. The Jesuits themselves were ready to submit, but Pius VI. removed their scruples, and in 1775 we find Frederick II. informing the Jesuits of Breslau that the new Pope had yielded to his request, and that he authorized the Fathers to go on living in community.
Catherine II. went still further, and as the Jesuits in Russia persisted in obeying the Bull in spite of her orders to the contrary, she obtained from Clement XIV. himself in June, 1774, a decree authorizing the Jesuits in White Russia to remain in statu quo until further orders; in 1779 they were even allowed to establish a noviciate at Mohilon. When Joseph II. visited Russia, he expressed his surprise at finding the Jesuits flourishing, and received from the Bishop of Mohilon the following laconic reply: "Populo indigente, imperatrix jubente, Roma tacente."
Both Catherine and Frederick were infidels and in constant correspondence with the freethinkers of France, but they were keen-sighted politicians, powerful enough to care little for the opinion of other sovereigns, and, having recognized that the Jesuits were of use to their subjects, they resolved not to deprive them of their services.
A few years later, in 1783, the empress obtained from Pius VI. a verbal approbation of the Russian Jesuits; the Pope dared not do more, for Charles III. of Spain continued to exercise a jealous watch over the remnants of the hated Society, but the verbal approbation was sufficient to enable the Jesuits of Russia to elect a superior, who, with the title of vicar, governed his brethren according to the rules of the Society.
As time went on, after the great storm of the French Revolution had swept across Europe, shattering the thrones of the Bourbon kings, who had destroyed the Society, the restoration of that same Society became the dream and the desire of many holy souls, whom Providence gradually drew together to accomplish the same work. The "Pères de la Foi" in France, and a certain number of English members of the former Society, were anxious to join the flourishing group of religious who had continued, in a remote corner of Russia, to practise the rules of the Order.
Pius VII. was then on the Papal throne. Struck by the perils and necessities of the times, and impressed by the ardent desire manifested by many priests of great virtue and merit to enter the Order of Jesus, he resolved to restore it throughout the world. On the 7th of August, 1814, by the Bull, "Sollicitudo omnium Ecclesiarum," the Pontiff yielding "to the unanimous demand of the Catholic world," called forth from the tomb, where it had been laid for forty-one years, the Society of Jesus, whose sons took up once more the place they had so worthily held among the defenders of Christ's Church. This solemn act caused general rejoicing throughout the city of Rome: the Bull was read in the Gesù in presence of one hundred and fifty members of the former Society, who, having wept over its destruction, hailed its resurrection with tears of joy. In Europe and in the distant missions old priests might be seen coming, after forty years' separation, to end their days under the rule of St. Ignatius, while new recruits flocked in such numbers that in the course of a few years the Jesuits possessed houses and colleges in all the chief cities of Europe. When they returned to Portugal, in 1829, the first pupils confided to their care were the four great grandsons of Pombal!
Since its happy restoration by Pius VII., the Order of Jesus has pursued its career, often persecuted and exiled, frequently misunderstood and attacked, but nourishing in spite of difficulties, and seeming to attract generous spirits for the very reason that its sons are more exposed to persecution.
While we write these lines the Jesuits in France and Italy are exposed to endless vexations, and in the latter country in particular they have been driven out of their houses and robbed of their libraries and collections.
Among the eminent Jesuits who have flourished since the restoration of the Order, let us mention Father de Rozaven, a controversialist of talent and a religious of rare wisdom and influence; Father de Ravignan, a preacher; Father Gury, a theologian of renown; Father Franzelin, whom the Pope obliged to accept a cardinal's hat; the Fathers De Buck and Van Hecke, who have resumed the labours of the Bollandists, and Fathers Secchi and Perry, well known in the world of science.
The most remarkable of the generals who have been called to govern the Institute since its resurrection is, doubtless, Father John Roothan, a Dutchman, whose powers of organization were equalled by his great personal holiness, energy, and prudence. He ruled the Order from 1829 to 1853. Its present general is Father Martin, a Spaniard, whose election took place, only two years ago, at Loyola, the birthplace of St. Ignatius.
Accusations against the Society of Jesus
The accusations which from time to time are brought against the Society of Jesus may be classified under three heads:
(1) Accusations against the Institute itself, as defined by the constitutions of the Society.
(2) Accusations against the system of education pursued in Jesuit schools and colleges.
(3) Accusations against the moral teaching of Jesuit theologians.
Under the first head come such charges as that Jesuits take a special oath of obedience to the Pope in political matters; that the end justifies the means is one of their maxims; that their generals are despotic, and that the members of the Society are enslaved to their will; that they form a secret organization working by underhand methods for the ruin of the state and the advancement of what they consider the interests of the Church.
Under the second head are included such accusations as that they make use of education as a means of proselyting; that they conceal the real character of their religious teaching; that they undermine the loyalty of their scholars towards their country and their legitimate superiors.
Under the third head come the charges that Jesuit theologians teach that faith is not to be kept with heretics; that they may lawfully equivocate and lie; that they are lax in their system of morality; that they teach the lawfulness of regicide, &c.
All these accusations have been answered over and over again; but they are not the less repeated by each generation of controversialists. The following pages are intended to furnish our readers with replies to the charges most commonly made.
The matter contained in them is taken from various sources, some of them not easily accessible. We desire to acknowledge our indebtedness more especially to the Rev. Thomas J. Campbell's work on the "Jesuits," and to Father Pollen's pamphlet on "Jesuit Education."
The Society of Jesus
The following article, from the pen of the Rev. Joseph Rickaby, S.J., originally appeared in the "Nineteenth Century" for September, 1901:
Not seldom one is asked the question, What is a Jesuit? The word has got into literature with such various meanings that perhaps it may be useful to answer the query simply and historically. A Jesuit is a member of the Society of Jesus, a religious order in the Catholic Church, approved by Pope Paul III. on September 27th, 1540.
At the time of the establishment of this Society there were living in the Church many other religious orders: Benedictines, founded by St. Benedict about 540 A.D.; Dominicans, founded by St. Dominic in 1215; Franciscans, founded by St. Francis of Assisi in 1209; Augustinians, founded in 1256; Carmelites, of earlier but uncertain date. The new order came in as a sort of light infantry to help the older orders, which are as the cavalry and heavy-armed foot in the service of the Church. Like the older orders, the Society of Jesus is bound by the three religious vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience, and by a special vow of obedience to the Pope in the matter of missions. The difference between this Society and the older orders is one of organization and external observance rather than of aim and spirit.
In organization, the Society of Jesus is highly centralized. The general, elected for life by the Society itself, and residing usually at Rome, has large powers over the body. He is not indeed an autocrat: there are many things that he cannot do without the consent of his council, which consists of members of the Society dwelling with him at Rome, called "assistants." Still, the union of the Society and its prompt efficiency for any work are secured by large powers vested in the general and transmitted by him through "provincials," or local superiors, to "rectors" of houses and other subordinate superiors.
In external observance, the Society of Jesus differs from older orders mainly in this, that it has no common recital of the Church office in choir. Older religious orders are mainly cloistered, and their members gather in the chapel at stated times to recite or sing the "hours." Members of the Society of Jesus say these hours privately. The order is a non-cloistered one. This difference of regimen is connected with a difference of work. The older orders aimed primarily at the personal sanctification of their own members through prayer, penance, and retirement from the world; their work for others was mainly a consequence of the holiness acquired by work upon themselves. The Society of Jesus aims primarily at work for the good of souls outside its own body. It places the active before the contemplative life, though not, of course, to the exclusion of the contemplative. Its members are meant to be "contemplatives in action." The personal sanctification of the individual Jesuit is secured by a copious provision of "retreats," or seasons of more intense prayer and retirement, which every member of the Society is bound to make from time to time, and by other exercises of devotion fitted in with an active life.
The work for which the Society of Jesus was founded, and to which it devotes itself, is teaching, preaching, and the administration of the sacraments. To these heads may be reduced all that Jesuits do; for even their missionary work among the heathen is only teaching, preaching, and sacramental ministration carried to fresh fields. For this work the Society makes an elaborate preparation of its subjects. The candidate, on joining, passes through what is called his "first probation" of two years. This probation is a time of testing and training. If he perseveres and is approved, he takes the three religious vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience, but only for a time. He is not yet a fully professed member of the Society. After his first probation come his studies: two years of classics; three years of philosophy and mathematics; then commonly a period of teaching in one of the colleges of the Society; then four years of theology; then ordination to the priesthood; then what is called "third probation," being a year of spiritual training similar to the first probation; and finally, in the case of those destined to the highest rank in the Society, pronouncing of the four solemn vows—the three common religious vows, now taken for life, and the fourth vow of special obedience to the Pope.
But a large proportion of the members of the Society do not take this fourth vow. They rest satisfied with a simple vow of perseverance in the Society, and form what is called the grade of "spiritual coadjutors." There is also a grade of "temporal coadjutors," who are lay-brothers, and whose business it is to attend to the housekeeping and outdoor work of the colleges and other institutions of the Society.
The "professed" members, who have taken four vows, are naturally the governing body in the Society. From their ranks are chosen the general, the provincials, the rectors, and other superiors. The general is elected by a "general congregation," made up of the professed members and of certain elected representatives of the spiritual coadjutors. Such a general congregation meets on the death of a general to choose his successor. It meets also on other occasions of importance to the Society. The acts of such congregations have the force of law in the Society, subject to the approval of the Pope.
In the matter of studies, the Society of Jesus follows the philosophy of Aristotle as interpreted by St. Thomas Aquinas. But the individual member is not bound down to any particular view on questions that are matters of free discussion among Catholic theologians. In philosophy and theology there are rival schools in the Society, as there are in the Church.
With regard to the charge of blind obedience often made against the Society, it should be observed that the obedience of a Jesuit, like that of every Catholic, and indeed of every reasonable man, has its limits. "We must obey God rather than men." The obedience is not the surrender of private judgment in speculative matters. In the "Spiritual Exercises" of St. Ignatius, which every Jesuit makes and to the spirit of which he endeavours to conform his life, there is a series of "Rules for thinking with the Church," not for thinking like an automaton. In practical matters a Jesuit may represent to his superior when he thinks the superior is mistaken, and ask for a reconsideration of the order given. But if the superior maintains his command, then the subject obeys, as a soldier obeys his captain, as a son his father, as every man obeys when he recognizes legitimate authority and wishes to work harmoniously with his fellows for a common end.
What is the common end for which the Society of Jesus exists? It is stated in the opening words of the Constitutions: "to strive especially for the defence and propagation of the faith and for the progress of souls in Christian life and doctrine." Has the Society any political object? Not directly. Indirectly, yes, in the same sense as every religious body that forms and influences the consciences of men must be said to have a political object. If you make men honest, truthful, sober, chaste, just, and charitable, you cannot help influencing their political action. The good of the individual soul and the good of civil society go together.
This being the object of the Society, it will be recognized that to attack that object is, in the eyes of Jesuits, to attack their reason for existing. Hence the strong feelings aroused when any proposal is made to restrict their work of education. They regard it as an attack upon their life-work and their justification for being. They meet it as men meet an attack upon what they hold most sacred. Their conduct under such circumstances may be imprudent, but it is at least intelligible and human.
What has the Society of Jesus done? That is a large question, and can be answered only in a large way. In the field of education the Society has conducted for 350 years colleges and universities in many parts of the world. The system of education developed in these institutions, with its careful graduation of studies, its insistence upon the mastery of Latin, and its cultivation of literary taste through the study of the best classical models, had great influence upon educational methods generally, and this influence is still felt. From Jesuit schools have come many distinguished men. To mention only a few names: Corneille, Moliere, Voltaire, Diderot, Descartes, Buffon, Bossuet, Condorcet, were educated by Jesuits. This, be it observed, though some of these men afterwards departed far from the principles in which they had been trained.
In the field of learning, members of the Society have produced works which hold a permanent place in literature. Such are the writings of Suarez on law; of Petavius on chronology and the history of dogma; of Bollandus and his successors on the lives of the saints; of Kircher on a variety of scientific subjects; of Schott on physics; of Riccioli on astronomy; of Raynaud and Sirmond on history; of Possevino on bibliography. In our own day the Jesuits conduct the Analecta Bollandiana, which holds the first place among learned periodicals devoted to historical research.
In the mission field the labours of the Society have extended to every quarter of the globe. Jesuit missionaries have worked in India, China, Japan, North and South America, the Levant, and Africa. The names of St. Francis Xavier, who evangelized the East Indies and Japan; of Matteo Ricci, who opened China to the Gospel; of the martyrs of North America, Jogues, Brebeuf, Lalemant, and their companions; of the missioners of South America, who gathered the Indians into reductions, or settlements, for protection against the slave-traders—these names are written in history. The missionary work still continues. There are to-day Jesuit missions in India, China, Madagascar, Zambesi, Alaska, the Rocky Mountains, Central America, and other places.
In later times members of the Society have done notable work in physical science. Such names as those of Secchi in astronomy, and Palmieri in seismology, show that the old hostility between the Society and physical science, if it ever existed, has passed away.
This is what the Society of Jesus is and what it has done. There are at present about 15,000 members of the Society scattered through the world. In England there are about 600. They live in communities, sometimes in large institutions, sometimes in small houses of two or three Fathers. They teach in schools and colleges; they preach in churches; they conduct retreats; they write books; they edit magazines. Some are engaged in study; others in the direct work of the ministry. They are as much known to their neighbours as any other class of men, and they are as little given to conspiracy as any other class of men. If they are a danger to the State, it is the danger that comes from the propagation of the Catholic religion. Whether that is a real danger is a question which each man must answer for himself according to his view of the Catholic religion.
The Jesuit Oath
By the Rev. John Gerard, S.J.
Some two years ago the public attention was called to a certain alleged "Jesuit Oath" by Mr. Eugene Sue in his Gil Blas articles, and by certain other writers. The oath in question is supposed to be taken by every member of the Society of Jesus when he reaches a certain grade in the order. As given by Mr. Eugene Sue, it is a most horrible and blood-curdling document, in which the swearer binds himself to wade through seas of blood in order to establish the Pope's temporal dominion over the universe.
This pretended oath is a palpable and malicious forgery. No such oath has ever been taken by any Jesuit, nor does anything even remotely resembling it exist in the constitutions of the Society or in any of its official documents. The genuine oaths taken by Jesuits are perfectly well known, as the constitutions of the Society have been in print for more than 300 years, and can be consulted by anyone in the British Museum or any other public library.
When a candidate is admitted to his first vows in the Society of Jesus, he takes the three ordinary religious vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience. The formula is as follows:
"Almighty and eternal God, I, [Name], although every way unworthy of Thy divine sight, yet relying upon Thy infinite goodness and mercy and moved with a desire of serving Thee, before the most sacred Virgin Mary and the whole heavenly host, vow to Thy divine Majesty Poverty, Chastity, and Obedience in the Society of Jesus, and I promise that I will enter the same Society to live in it perpetually, understanding all things according to the Constitutions of the Society of Jesus. Therefore I humbly pray and beseech Thee, through Thine infinite goodness and mercy and through the blood of Jesus Christ, that Thou wilt deign to receive this holocaust in an odour of sweetness, and that as Thou hast given me grace to desire and offer this oblation, so Thou wilt bestow abundant grace to fulfill it. Amen."
Those members of the Society who advance to the highest grade take a fourth vow, which is one of special obedience to the Pope in the matter of missions. The formula of this vow is:
"I, [Name], make profession and promise to Almighty God, before His Virgin Mother and the whole heavenly host, and to you, Reverend Father [Name of Superior], representing the Superior General of the Society of Jesus and holding the place of God, and to your successors, Poverty, Chastity, and perpetual Obedience; and according to it, special care about the instruction of boys, according to the manner expressed in the Apostolic Letters of the Society of Jesus and in its Constitutions. I promise also special obedience to the Sovereign Pontiff in regard to missions according to the same Apostolic Letters and Constitutions."
These are the only oaths taken by any Jesuit. It will be seen that they are entirely concerned with religious and spiritual matters, and contain nothing whatever that is political or that could by any possibility be construed as inconsistent with civil allegiance.
The forged oath, which is sometimes attributed to the Jesuits, can be traced back to the Monita Secreta, an apocryphal document fabricated in the early part of the seventeenth century, and to other equally untrustworthy sources. It has been repeatedly exposed and refuted, but it continues to be circulated by those who find it convenient to believe and spread calumnies against the Catholic Church.
That such an oath as the one in question should be believed by any rational person to be genuine involves a reflection upon the intelligence of those who accept it. It is drawn up in a style of melodramatic extravagance which would be absurd in any genuine document, and contains statements which are absolutely contradicted by the known history and actual practice of the Society of Jesus.
Moreover, if such an oath were really taken by the Jesuits, it is incredible that it should have remained secret. The constitutions of the Society, its rules, and its genuine forms of profession have been public property for centuries. Many thousands of persons have been members of the Society, and many of these have left it; many others have been expelled from it. Is it conceivable that among all these men there should never have been one who would reveal the existence of such an oath? The supposition is contrary to all experience of human nature.
The circulation of this forged oath is part of a systematic campaign of calumny which has been carried on against the Society of Jesus for centuries. The same lying spirit which produced the Monita Secreta has been at work in every generation, and the pretended oath is only one of its latest manifestations. Catholics are accustomed to such attacks, and are not greatly disturbed by them. They know that similar calumnies were circulated against the early Christians, who were accused of practising cannibalism and other abominations. The same method of warfare has been employed against every religious movement which the enemies of Christianity have desired to destroy.
It is worth noting that the countries in which the Society of Jesus has been most bitterly persecuted—such as France and Germany—are precisely those in which its educational and social influence had been most beneficial. This is not a coincidence. It is the natural result of the fact that an institution which really serves the best interests of society is sure to arouse the hostility of those whose interests lie in the opposite direction.
The Monita Secreta
By the Rev. John Gerard, S.J.
The Monita Secreta, or "Secret Instructions of the Jesuits," is a document which has been used as a weapon against the Society of Jesus for nearly 300 years. It purports to be a secret code of rules issued by the General of the Jesuits for the guidance of the Society in its supposed machinations against civil and religious liberty. Like the forged oath of which we have spoken, it is a pure fabrication, without any foundation in fact.
The history of this document is perfectly well known. It was composed by a discharged ex-Jesuit named Jerome Zahorowski, who had been expelled from the Society for immoral conduct. After his expulsion he became secretary to the Count Palatine Neuberg, a violent enemy of the Jesuits, and in this position he fabricated the Monita Secreta as a weapon against his former brethren. The document was first published at Cracow in 1614.
The authorship of Zahorowski and the circumstances of the composition of the Monita Secreta are admitted even by Protestant historians who are no friends of the Society of Jesus. Thus Mosheim, the Lutheran church historian, says: "The Secret Instructions of the Jesuits published in the Polish language at Cracow in 1614, and afterward translated into Latin and other languages, were written by Jerome Zahorowski, who had been expelled from the Society."
The internal evidence of the document itself is sufficient to prove its spurious character. It is written throughout in a style of vulgar cunning which betrays its real origin. No body of educated men, whatever their faults, would ever commit to writing such a collection of shabby and contemptible directions. The language is that of the brothel and the tavern, not of the council chamber of a learned society.
Moreover, the instructions contained in the Monita Secreta are in direct contradiction to the known principles and actual constitutions of the Society of Jesus. For instance, one of the "secret instructions" directs that the Society shall accumulate wealth by every possible means, while the constitutions of the Society strictly forbid the possession of any fixed revenues, and allow the members to possess only what is necessary for their simple maintenance. Again, the Monita Secreta directs that Jesuits shall cultivate the friendship of widows and other wealthy women with a view to extracting money from them, while the constitutions of the Society lay down the strictest rules for avoiding all unnecessary intercourse with women, and particularly forbid the hearing of women's confessions except in cases of necessity and with special permission.
The Monita Secreta was exposed as a forgery within a very few years of its first publication. In 1616, only two years after its appearance, Tobias Lohner, a learned German Jesuit, published a complete refutation of it under the title "Anatomy of the Secret Instructions." He showed conclusively that the document was a fabrication, and traced its origin to Zahorowski. Numerous other refutations followed, and the spurious character of the document has been admitted by many non-Catholic scholars.
Nevertheless, the Monita Secreta has continued to be republished and circulated down to the present day. It has been translated into nearly every European language, and has been used as a source-book by every enemy of the Catholic Church. Its vitality is a striking illustration of the truth that a lie, once set going, will run round the world while the truth is putting on its boots.
The persistence with which this forged document is circulated is not difficult to explain. It serves a useful purpose in the eyes of those who wish to discredit the Catholic Church and its religious orders. It matters little to such persons that the document is a proved forgery; it still serves their purpose by creating prejudice and suspicion. The fact that it has been repeatedly exposed only makes them more careful to avoid direct discussion of its authenticity.
It is worth noting that the Monita Secreta was first published in Poland at a time when the Jesuits were engaged in a successful campaign to recover that country from Protestantism. The fabrication of this document was part of a systematic attempt to counteract their influence by destroying their reputation. Similar tactics have been employed against the Society in every country where its work has been effective.
The continued circulation of the Monita Secreta is a proof of the desperation of the enemies of the Catholic Church. When men resort to the use of documents which they know to be forged, they confess that they have no genuine arguments to offer. The truth is strong enough to defend itself without the aid of falsehood; it is only error that needs to call in lies to its assistance.
Catholics need not be disturbed by the circulation of such documents. They are rather a testimony to the effectiveness of Catholic work than a real danger to Catholic interests. The very fact that the enemies of the Church find it necessary to resort to such weapons is a proof that they cannot meet Catholic teaching and Catholic influence with legitimate argument.
Bogeys and Scarecrows
By the Rev. John Gerard, S.J.
In his "Chapters in European History," Mr. Seeley observes that "the true reason why the Jesuits have been so much hated is that they have been so successful." There is much truth in this remark. Success always breeds enemies, and brilliant success breeds bitter enemies. The Society of Jesus had hardly been founded before it began to achieve successes which excited the envy and alarm of its opponents.
In the field of education the Jesuits speedily distance all competitors. Their schools and colleges attracted the sons of the nobility and gentry throughout Catholic Europe. They introduced new and improved methods of teaching. They combined thorough intellectual training with careful moral discipline. They produced a type of educated Catholic gentleman who was equally at home in the salon and the council chamber.
In the mission field their achievements were still more remarkable. St. Francis Xavier and his companions carried the Gospel to the remotest corners of Asia. The Jesuit missionaries in North America displayed a heroic devotion which has never been surpassed in the annals of the Church. In South America they created a veritable earthly paradise in their Indian reductions. Everywhere they went they left the mark of their civilizing influence.
In the sphere of learning they produced works which are still standard authorities in their respective departments. Suarez in theology and law, Petavius in history and chronology, the Bollandists in hagiography, Kircher in oriental studies—these are names which no student can ignore.
With such a record of achievement it was inevitable that the Society should arouse opposition. Success on such a scale could not fail to provoke jealousy. But the hostility which the Jesuits encountered was not merely the natural result of successful competition. It was systematically organized and artificially stimulated by interested parties who found the Jesuit influence an obstacle to their own designs.
The methods employed against the Society have been precisely those which are always used by unscrupulous opponents when they find themselves unable to meet fair competition. Unable to equal the Jesuits in legitimate achievement, their enemies have resorted to calumny and misrepresentation. They have invented bogeys and set up scarecrows. They have created a mythical Jesuit who bears no more resemblance to the real article than the Guy Fawkes of November 5th bears to the actual conspirator of 1605.
The process by which this mythical Jesuit has been manufactured is simple enough. A few isolated statements have been taken from the vast body of Jesuit literature, detached from their context, and given a meaning which their authors never intended. A few exceptional incidents in Jesuit history have been magnified and distorted until they have been made to appear typical of the whole Society. A few individual Jesuits who may have been guilty of indiscretions or worse have been held up as fair samples of the entire body.
By these methods it has been possible to create a picture of the Jesuit which is calculated to inspire terror in the minds of the ignorant and the prejudiced. The mythical Jesuit is represented as a man who holds no principles sacred, who regards no ties as binding, who will stop at no crime to achieve his ends. He is at once a subtle theologian who can prove that black is white, and a practical conspirator who is always plotting the overthrow of governments. He is credited with a kind of supernatural cunning which enables him to be everywhere and to know everything. He is the power behind every throne, the wire-puller behind every revolution, the secret spring of every movement which his enemies dislike.
This mythical Jesuit is the bogey with which Protestant children have been frightened for generations. He is the scarecrow which is still exhibited whenever it is desired to rouse popular feeling against the Catholic Church. He is as purely imaginary as the ogre of the fairy tales, and considerably less entertaining.
The real Jesuit is a very different person. He is, in the first place, a man who has dedicated his life to what he believes to be the service of God and his fellow-men. He has renounced the ordinary ambitions and pleasures of life in order to devote himself to teaching, preaching, and the administration of the sacraments. He has bound himself by vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience, which, whatever may be thought of their wisdom, are certainly calculated to eliminate most of the motives which lead men to crime and conspiracy.
In the second place, the real Jesuit is a man of education and culture. The Society has always insisted upon a thorough intellectual training for its members. The course of studies which every Jesuit undergoes is longer and more comprehensive than that required for any other profession. It includes not only theology and philosophy, but also literature, science, and the arts. The average Jesuit is better educated than the average member of any other profession.
In the third place, the real Jesuit is a man whose life is lived in the full light of publicity. The idea that Jesuits are a secret society is one of the most absurd of all the fables which have been invented about them. No men in the world are better known to their neighbors than the Jesuits. Their houses, their schools, their churches are open to all. Their books and periodicals circulate freely. Their constitutions have been in print for centuries. If they were really the dangerous conspirators they are represented to be, it is inconceivable that their plots should never have been discovered.
The truth is that the Jesuit scarecrow has been kept alive for purposes which have nothing to do with genuine fear of the Society of Jesus. It is a useful weapon in the hands of those who wish to attack the Catholic Church without appearing to do so directly. By concentrating their fire upon the Jesuits, they can create the impression that they are only attacking a small and particularly objectionable section of Catholics, while in reality they are striking at principles which are held by the entire Catholic Church.
The same method has been employed in other spheres. Anti-Semites do not usually venture to attack the Jewish race as a whole; they concentrate their fire upon the Jewish financier or the Jewish revolutionary. Opponents of socialism do not always attack the working classes directly; they prefer to single out some particularly prominent leader for their denunciations. The method is as old as political controversy, and it is not likely to be abandoned while human nature remains what it is.
Catholics need not be disturbed by these attacks upon the Society of Jesus. They know that the same spirit which fabricated the Monita Secreta and the false Jesuit oath is still at work manufacturing new calumnies for each generation. They know that the real test of any institution is not what its enemies say about it, but what it actually accomplishes. Judged by this test, the Society of Jesus stands high among the great educational and religious forces of the modern world.
"The end justifies the means"
By the Rev. John Gerard, S.J.
One of the charges most commonly brought against the Jesuits is that they teach and practice the maxim that "the end justifies the means"—that is, that any means, however evil in itself, becomes legitimate if it is employed in the service of a good purpose. This accusation has been repeated so often and so confidently that many people have come to regard it as an established fact, requiring no further investigation.
As a matter of fact, no such maxim has ever been taught by any accredited Jesuit theologian, and the principle itself is expressly condemned in the official teaching of the Society. It is condemned not only because it is contrary to Catholic theology, but because it is contrary to the most elementary principles of morality.
The confusion has arisen partly from a misunderstanding of the true Catholic teaching about the morality of human acts, and partly from the deliberate misrepresentation of that teaching by controversial writers who have found it convenient to attribute to the Jesuits a doctrine which they never held.
According to Catholic theology, the morality of any human act depends upon three factors: the act itself, the intention of the agent, and the circumstances under which the act is performed. All three factors must be good if the act is to be morally lawful. If any one of them is bad, the whole act becomes sinful.
This principle is thus stated by St. Thomas Aquinas: "An action is not good unless all the factors which contribute to it are good; but it is evil if any one of its contributing factors is evil." The same principle is expressed in the familiar axiom: "Bonum ex integra causa, malum ex quocumque defectu"—"Good results from the integrity of the cause, evil from any defect whatsoever."
Now it is perfectly true that Catholic theologians, including Jesuits, have always taught that a good intention is necessary to make an action morally good. No action can be virtuous unless it is performed with a virtuous purpose. This is simply the common sense of morality, admitted by all reasonable men.
But it is equally true that Catholic theologians have always taught that a good intention cannot make an intrinsically evil action lawful. No purpose, however excellent, can justify the performance of an act which is evil in itself. To say otherwise would be to admit the very principle which the enemies of the Jesuits falsely attribute to them.
The Catholic teaching on this subject was admirably summarized by Pope Innocent XI in 1679, when he condemned as erroneous the proposition that "it is lawful to seek directly a good which will follow from the evil action of another." The same Pope also condemned the proposition that "it is lawful to desire and rejoice in the death of one's father, not as an evil which befalls him, but because of the inheritance which will result from it."
These condemnations are directed precisely against the principle that the end justifies the means, and they represent the authentic teaching of the Catholic Church, which is the teaching followed by all orthodox Catholic theologians, including the Jesuits.
Where, then, did the false attribution of this principle to the Jesuits originate? It can be traced to two main sources: first, the systematic misrepresentation of Jesuit teaching by controversial writers who found it convenient to attribute to their opponents doctrines which they never held; and second, the misunderstanding of certain technical discussions in moral theology which dealt with cases where an action might have both good and evil effects.
With regard to the first point, it is sufficient to say that the method of attributing to one's opponents principles which they have never professed is as old as controversy itself. It is much easier to refute a doctrine which you have yourself invented than to grapple with the actual teaching of your adversary. The plan has the additional advantage of discrediting your opponent in the eyes of those who are too ignorant or too prejudiced to investigate the matter for themselves.
The second source of confusion is more worthy of serious consideration. Catholic theologians have always recognized that in this imperfect world we are sometimes faced with situations where it is impossible to act without producing some evil consequences along with the good which we intend to achieve. The question then arises: under what conditions is it lawful to perform an action which we foresee will have both good and evil effects?
This question is discussed by Catholic moralists under the heading of "the principle of double effect." The conditions which must be fulfilled before such an action can be lawfully performed are four in number:
- The action itself must be either good or indifferent; it must not be intrinsically evil.
- The agent must intend only the good effect; the evil effect must not be intended, though it may be foreseen and permitted.
- The good effect must not arise from the evil effect, but both must arise equally from the action itself.
- The good effect must outweigh the evil, or at least there must be a proportionately grave reason for permitting the evil.
An illustration will make this principle clear. A surgeon who performs a dangerous operation intends to save his patient's life, though he foresees that the operation may possibly result in the patient's death. The operation itself is not evil; the surgeon intends only the good effect (the saving of life); the good effect (health) does not arise from the evil effect (death), since if the patient dies no good results; and there is a proportionately grave reason (the patient's critical condition) for risking the evil effect.
Such an operation would be morally lawful under the principle of double effect, provided that the surgeon used all reasonable care to minimize the risk. But it would be quite unlawful for the surgeon to kill the patient directly in order to save him from suffering, because this would violate the first condition—the act itself (direct killing of an innocent person) would be intrinsically evil.
Now it is true that some Jesuit theologians, like other Catholic moralists, have discussed this principle of double effect, and have applied it to various difficult cases. But to say that they have thereby taught that "the end justifies the means" is a complete misrepresentation of their doctrine. The principle of double effect expressly excludes the use of intrinsically evil means; it permits only the performance of good or indifferent actions which may have incidental evil consequences.
The distinction is fundamental, and it is one which any honest controversialist should be careful to observe. To confuse the two principles is either to display an ignorance of elementary moral theology or to exhibit a deliberate intention to misrepresent Catholic teaching.
It is worth noting that the principle of double effect, far from being a peculiarly Jesuit doctrine, is simply the application of common sense to the practical problems of moral life. It is a principle which is recognized, under one form or another, by all reasonable moralists, Catholic and non-Catholic alike. The surgeon who risks his patient's life to save it, the sea-captain who jettisons valuable cargo to save his ship, the general who accepts heavy casualties in order to win a decisive victory—all these men are acting on the principle that it is sometimes lawful to permit evil consequences for the sake of a greater good, provided that the evil is not directly intended and that the action itself is not intrinsically wrong.
The real objection to the principle, as stated and applied by Catholic theologians, is not that it justifies the use of evil means to achieve good ends, but that it requires too strict an adherence to moral law. Non-Catholic moralists are often more willing than Catholic theologians to justify actions which are intrinsically evil if they lead to beneficial results. It is they, rather than the Catholics, who are tempted to adopt the principle that the end justifies the means.
The continued repetition of this false charge against the Jesuits is a striking illustration of the way in which calumnies, once set in circulation, acquire a life of their own and become independent of all evidence. The charge has been refuted over and over again, but it continues to be repeated by writers who have never taken the trouble to investigate the actual teaching of the Jesuit theologians whom they attack.
Such methods of controversy are not creditable to those who employ them, and they are not likely to advance the cause of truth. Honest differences of opinion on religious and moral questions are inevitable, and they can be discussed with profit by men of good will. But nothing is gained by the systematic misrepresentation of an opponent's position, and much harm is done to the cause of rational discussion.
Those who are interested in discovering what Jesuits actually teach on moral questions will find it more profitable to consult the works of Jesuit theologians themselves than to rely upon the testimony of their enemies. They will find that these works, whatever their defects, do not contain the monstrous doctrines which have been attributed to them by controversial writers. They will find, on the contrary, a consistent effort to apply the principles of Christian morality to the complex problems of human life, and to maintain the highest possible standard of ethical conduct.
Jesuit Obedience
By the Rev. Sydney F. Smith, S.J.
The obedience of the Jesuits has always been a subject of curiosity to outsiders, and very often of repugnance. To the ordinary Englishman, with his sturdy independence and his rooted dislike of being ordered about, the very idea of promising to obey another man in all things seems degrading and unmanly. He pictures to himself the Jesuit as a kind of automaton, moving only when the superior pulls the string, and incapable of any independent thought or action.
This picture is entirely false, and arises from a complete misunderstanding of the nature and limits of religious obedience. The obedience promised by a Jesuit is not the obedience of a slave to his master, or of a machine to its operator. It is the intelligent and willing submission of a free agent who has deliberately chosen to place himself under authority for the sake of achieving an end which he could not achieve alone.
The first point to be grasped is that Jesuit obedience is voluntary. No one is compelled to become a Jesuit, and no one is compelled to remain in the Society against his will. Every member is free to leave at any time, and many have done so without incurring any penalty or reproach. The obedience is therefore the obedience of a volunteer, not of a conscript.
The second point is that Jesuit obedience is limited. It does not extend to matters of sin or to things which are clearly beyond the superior's authority. A Jesuit is bound to obey God rather than man, and he would be acting wrongly if he obeyed a superior who commanded him to do what he knew to be sinful. In practice, such conflicts rarely if ever arise, because superiors are chosen for their prudence and virtue, and because the traditions of the Society are all in the direction of reasonable and moderate government.
The third point is that Jesuit obedience is intelligent. It is not the blind submission of a man who has surrendered his faculty of judgment, but the reasoned submission of one who has weighed the arguments for and against the surrender of his own will in certain matters. The Constitutions of the Society expressly provide that subjects may represent to their superiors when they think a command is unwise or imprudent, and may ask for its reconsideration. It is only when the superior has heard the representation and still maintains his command that obedience becomes a duty.
The fourth point is that Jesuit obedience is purposeful. It is not an end in itself, but a means to an end. The end is the more effective prosecution of the work for which the Society exists. Experience has shown that men working together for a common purpose achieve more when they work under a unified direction than when each follows his own individual judgment. This is recognized in every army, every business organization, and every efficient society. The Jesuits have simply applied this principle to religious and educational work.
The fifth point is that Jesuit obedience is reciprocal. The superior who commands obedience is himself bound by obedience to his superior, and ultimately to the general of the Society. No one in the Society, from the general downwards, is free to do exactly as he pleases. All are bound by the same law of submission to legitimate authority.
When these points are understood, the obedience of the Jesuits appears not as a degrading servitude but as a reasonable arrangement for securing efficiency in the prosecution of a common work. It is essentially the same principle which governs every well-organized body of men working for a definite purpose.
But it is objected that religious obedience goes beyond what is required in ordinary associations, and demands a submission of the intellect and will which is incompatible with human dignity. This objection rests upon another misunderstanding. Religious obedience does not require the surrender of private judgment in matters of opinion, but only the subordination of one's own will to the common good in matters of action.
A Jesuit may think that his superior's policy is unwise, and he may say so; but if the superior, after hearing his views, still maintains his decision, the Jesuit will loyally carry out that decision to the best of his ability. This is exactly what happens in every well-disciplined organization. The soldier may think his general's plan of campaign is faulty, but he obeys orders. The civil servant may disapprove of his minister's policy, but he carries it out. The employee may disagree with his employer's methods, but he does his work faithfully.
The difference is that in the case of the Jesuit the obedience is given not merely for the sake of earning a living or avoiding punishment, but for the sake of serving God and achieving a supernatural end. This gives to religious obedience a dignity and a motive power which no merely secular obedience can possess.
It is sometimes said that this system produces men who are incapable of independent thought or action. This charge is easily refuted by an appeal to facts. Some of the most original thinkers and most energetic men of action in the history of the Church have been members of religious orders bound by vows of obedience. The rolls of the Jesuit Society include the names of men like Suarez, Petavius, De Lugo, Molina, and scores of others who were certainly not lacking in intellectual independence. In the mission field, Jesuits like Xavier, Ricci, and the martyrs of North America displayed an initiative and resourcefulness which would have done credit to any explorer or pioneer.
The truth is that the system of religious obedience, properly understood and properly administered, does not crush individuality but directs it into the most effective channels. It saves men from the waste of energy which results from aimless effort, and enables them to concentrate their powers upon the achievement of great purposes.
Of course, like every human institution, the system is liable to abuse. There have been cases where superiors have used their authority unwisely or harshly, and there have been cases where subjects have misunderstood the nature of the obedience they owed. But such abuses do not invalidate the system any more than the occasional incompetence of a general invalidates the principle of military discipline, or the occasional tyranny of an employer invalidates the principle of industrial organization.
The system of religious obedience has been tested by centuries of experience, and has proved its worth by the results it has achieved. It has enabled small bodies of men to accomplish work which would have been impossible if each had followed his own individual judgment. It has been one of the chief factors in the success of the great religious orders, and it remains today one of the most effective instruments for the prosecution of organized religious work.
Those who criticize the system from the outside would do well to study its actual working before pronouncing judgment upon it. They would find that it produces not slaves but soldiers, not automatons but athletes. The man who has learned to obey in small things is the man who can be trusted to command in great things. The discipline which seems irksome to the outsider is welcomed by the insider as a liberation from the petty tyrannies of self-will and a road to the achievement of great purposes.
This is the secret of Jesuit obedience, and this is why it has been one of the chief sources of the Society's strength. It is not a degrading servitude but an ennobling service, not a hindrance to human development but one of the most powerful aids to the realization of human possibilities at their highest.
The Jesuit libel case
Vaughan v. The Rock newspaper
The case of Vaughan v. The Rock was heard before Mr. Justice Wills and a special jury at the High Court of Justice on July 9, 1902. The action was brought by the Rev. Bernard Vaughan, S.J., for libel contained in an article published in The Rock newspaper.
The following report is taken from the official transcript:
Mr. Hugo Young, K.C., and Mr. Denis O'Conor appeared for the plaintiff. Mr. Macaskie appeared for the defendants.
Opening Statement for the Plaintiff
Mr. Hugo Young, K.C., said: My Lord and gentlemen of the jury, I appear in this case with my learned friend Mr. Denis O'Conor for the Rev. Bernard Vaughan, who is a member of the Society of Jesus, against the defendants, who are the proprietors of a newspaper called The Rock. The case is an action for libel, and the libel complained of appeared in The Rock of January 11th, 1902.
The words complained of are these: "Is there not one lawyer to come forward and to remind the British public that Jesuits are outlaws and their pretended 'actions' null and void? Another of these outlaws, one steeped in sedition, the Rev. Bernard Vaughan, commenced an action against the Editor of the Chatham and Rochester News." Further on the article speaks of the Jesuits as "men who own no nationality, no law, save the will of their own General, who were the sole cause of two revolutions here, and who every day perpetrate crimes against our laws and constitution by inciting Romanists to rebellion and to another civil war," and refers to them as "the infamous sons of Loyola."
Gentlemen, I submit to you that these words, applied to Father Vaughan, are clearly libellous. To say of a man that he is "steeped in sedition" is to impute to him the most serious of crimes against the State. To call him an "outlaw" is to suggest that he has no legal rights and stands outside the protection of the law. To say that he "perpetrates crimes against our laws and constitution" is to charge him with criminal conduct.
Now, gentlemen, who is Father Vaughan? He is an English gentleman, born in this country, educated in this country, and he has spent his whole life in the service of religion in this country. He comes of an old and honored English family. His brother is Cardinal Vaughan, the Archbishop of Westminster. No charge of any kind has ever been made against his personal character. He has been ordained as a priest of the Roman Catholic Church, and he is a member of the Society of Jesus.
The article in question was written by a correspondent and published by the defendants without any inquiry as to its truth. When Father Vaughan's attention was called to it, he wrote to the editor asking for an apology and withdrawal of the libellous statements. The editor published what he called an apology, but this so-called apology did not withdraw the charge that Father Vaughan was an "outlaw," and it repeated many of the offensive statements about the Society of Jesus.
Gentlemen, I submit that this is a case where substantial damages ought to be given. The charges made against Father Vaughan are of the most serious character. They attack him both in his character as an English citizen and in his character as a clergyman. No justification whatever has been attempted, because no justification is possible. I ask you to mark your disapproval of such reckless and malicious libelling by awarding to Father Vaughan such damages as will vindicate his character and serve as a warning to others who might be tempted to follow the example of The Rock.
Evidence for the Plaintiff
Father Vaughan was then called and gave evidence as to his position and character. He stated that he was born in 1847, was educated at Stonyhurst, and became a Jesuit in 1866. He had been ordained priest in 1880 and had spent his whole life in educational and religious work. He had held various positions in Jesuit colleges and was at the time of the trial engaged in preaching and conducting missions.
He said that when the article in The Rock was brought to his attention he was greatly distressed by it. The charges made against him were entirely false. He had never been guilty of sedition or any crime against the State. He was a loyal British subject and had never taken any part in political agitation. The accusation that he was "steeped in sedition" was particularly painful to him because it suggested that he was disloyal to his country.
Cross-examined by Mr. Macaskie, Father Vaughan admitted that there was an Act of Parliament of 1829 which prohibited Jesuits from entering this country, but he maintained that this Act was obsolete and was no longer enforced. He said that Jesuits lived openly in England and were well known to the authorities. No prosecutions had been brought under the Act for many years. He denied that the existence of this Act made Jesuits "outlaws" in any proper sense of the term.
Opening for the Defence
Mr. Macaskie, for the defendants, said: My Lord and gentlemen of the jury, I do not propose to justify the language used in this article in its entirety. I admit that to describe Father Vaughan as "steeped in sedition" was an unfortunate expression, and my clients have already expressed their regret for its use. But I do submit that there was some foundation for the other statements made, and that in any case the damages, if any, should be very small.
The main charge in the article is that Jesuits are "outlaws." Now, gentlemen, what are the facts? By the Roman Catholic Relief Act of 1829, while other Roman Catholics were relieved of their disabilities, special provision was made with regard to Jesuits. By Section 28 of that Act it was provided for "the gradual suppression and final prohibition" of the Society of Jesus in this country.
Section 34 enacts that any person who shall "be admitted or become a Jesuit" shall "be deemed and taken to be guilty of a misdemeanour, and being thereof lawfully convicted shall be sentenced and ordered to be banished from the United Kingdom for the term of his natural life."
This, gentlemen, is still the law of the land. Parliament has never repealed these provisions. In 1871, when Parliament repealed other portions of the Act of 1829, it expressly preserved the sections relating to Jesuits. Every Jesuit now in England is therefore, in the eye of the law, guilty of a misdemeanour and liable to banishment.
Under these circumstances, is it unfair to describe them as "outlaws"? They are men who, by their very presence in this country, are committing a daily breach of the law. They may not be prosecuted because the Government chooses not to enforce the law, but the law remains on the statute book.
Father Vaughan admits the existence of this law but says it is "obsolete." But there is no such thing in English law as an "obsolete" statute. A law remains in force until it is repealed by Parliament, however old it may be. The law against treason is older than the law against Jesuits, but no one would venture to say that it is obsolete.
Moreover, gentlemen, what damages has Father Vaughan suffered? He admits frankly that he cannot point to any pecuniary loss. No one has withdrawn his friendship from him; no one has refused him hospitality; he has lost no engagement or appointment. He also admits that by the rules of his order any damages awarded to him will not go into his own pocket but will be handed over to his religious superiors.
Under these circumstances I submit that if you find for the plaintiff at all, the damages should be merely nominal. This is not a case of serious injury to reputation, but at most a case of technical libel which has caused no real harm.
Reply for the Plaintiff
Sir Edward Clarke, K.C., in reply, said: Gentlemen, my learned friend has endeavoured to excuse this libel by reference to an old Act of Parliament, but his argument proves too much. If it were true that Jesuits are "outlaws" in the sense he suggests, then they would have no right to bring any legal action at all. Yet here is Father Vaughan in an English court of law, seeking redress for the wrong done to him, and no one questions his right to do so.
The truth is that the word "outlaw" as used in the article has a definite meaning, and that meaning is entirely different from what my learned friend suggests. An outlaw, in the proper sense of the term, is a man who has been put outside the protection of the law—a man who has no legal rights whatever. But Jesuits in this country have the same legal rights as other citizens. They can own property, make contracts, bring actions in the courts, and exercise all the ordinary rights of British subjects.
The Act of 1829 to which my learned friend refers does indeed contain provisions about Jesuits, but these provisions have never been enforced, and for all practical purposes they are dead letters. The mere fact that an old law remains unrepealed does not justify calling men "outlaws" who live openly and peacefully as citizens of this country.
But even if my learned friend's argument were sound, it would not justify the other statements in this article. Nothing in the Act of 1829 warrants calling Father Vaughan a man "steeped in sedition" or saying that he "perpetrates crimes against our laws and constitution." These are pure inventions, without a shadow of foundation.
My learned friend says that Father Vaughan has suffered no pecuniary damage. But damages for libel are not limited to pecuniary loss. When a man's character is attacked, when false and injurious statements are published about him, the law presumes damage and awards compensation accordingly. Father Vaughan is entitled to substantial damages, not only for the injury done to his reputation but also as a warning to others who might be tempted to follow the defendants' example.
The Judge's Summing Up
Mr. Justice Wills said: Gentlemen of the jury, this is an action for libel. It is sufficient to say that a libel is any writing which tends to bring the subject of attack in it into public hatred, contempt, or disrepute. I suppose there is no doubt about the tendency of these articles, because although the two principal points which have been mentioned and dwelt upon by Father Vaughan are the expressions about his being "steeped in sedition" and his being "an outlaw," one cannot fail, also, to see that the most offensive things that can possibly be said have been said of the Jesuits, and he is put forward as a man—as a Jesuit—who owns no nationality, and no law save the will of his own General, and so on.
It is undoubtedly a very offensive article as far as he is concerned, but still, gentlemen, that is entirely for you; it is a question for the jury, and not for the judge, and it has been so for nearly one hundred years past. Therefore it is entirely for you to say, and not for me to say, whether this is a libel or not.
But assuming that it is, then it is a mere question of damages. Now, you know, no one can regret more than I do the introduction of a great many of the topics which have been dealt with in this case. They are very difficult to avoid, I grant, but we are not here to discuss religious controversies, or to discuss questions of social and general policy.
People are entitled to have the widest possible difference of views, and to express those differences as strongly as they like upon all matters of general politics and social interest. Unfortunately when the subject of discussion is connected with anything like religious controversy, generally speaking, the spirit, which should be the spirit of religion, is gone, and all the elements of human passion, hatred, malice, and uncharitableness seem to be let loose.
With regard to the charge of blind obedience often made against the Society, it should be observed that the obedience of a Jesuit, like that of every Catholic, and indeed of every reasonable man, has its limits. "We must obey God rather than men." The obedience is not the surrender of private judgment in speculative matters.
Now, gentlemen, if you think that this is, in the sense in which I have explained to you, a libel, then it is a mere question of damages. There is an apology published as soon as this is brought to the notice of the editor, and of course that ought to be taken into consideration in assessing the damages.
I am not surprised at Father Vaughan feeling that that was not at all an adequate apology. I should not have thought it was. No doubt it is quite true it does express the regret of the editor for its having found its way into the paper, but it goes on to repeat as much as they dare to repeat what they said against the Order to which this gentleman belongs.
Now, gentlemen, I do not, of course, ask you to take into consideration at all the mere language of general controversy in matters of this kind. That is harmless, and it is permissible. It may be in very bad taste, and to my mind a good deal of it is in shocking taste, but then I hope I am a man of peace, and I have learnt in the course of my life, if I have learnt nothing else, some small measure of Christian charity; but the mere fact that these articles are extravagant, and go beyond good taste and good feeling, is nothing to the purpose.
The question is, what sort of imputation do they cast with regard to Father Vaughan? You are the judges of that, and, if you think they do convey serious imputations, imputations which have no ground, then your damages ought to be such as will mark your sense that all legitimate limits of controversy had been greatly exceeded.
I cannot help feeling in all these cases that to a certain extent the damages ought to mark the feeling of the jury with regard to matters of that kind, and, as has often been said before, when there is no pecuniary damage (and nobody supposes there is any pecuniary damage to Father Vaughan) it is not illegitimate to take into consideration that it is desirable to put an end and a stop to this kind of thing, which can only be done by reasonable and substantial damages.
It certainly will not be done if you accept the invitation of the learned counsel for the defendants, namely, to hustle Father Vaughan out of Court with a contemptuous verdict, which would be a direct encouragement to everybody else to tread in the same lines as this paper has walked in.
A great deal has been said to you, I do not know how many times Mr. Macaskie has said it, but he never mentioned the fact about this action having been brought without adding "with the consent of his superiors." We all know what that means. It means, Do not you do anything to pat the Jesuits as a body on the back. It means, Take into account against him that this may be to some extent an action which his superior desires to be brought.
But I do not think that is legitimate at all. If you were all members of the Society of Jesus yourselves, I should say to you, you must not give a farthing more because he belongs to the Society of Jesus, and because your sympathies might be with him; and I say do not give a farthing less because he is a member of the Society of Jesus, in so far as that may tend to make your sympathies against him.
Let us administer justice here, free from sympathy, free from passion, free from prejudices, and let us say, if you think an English gentleman has been libelled, and that his character has been taken away as far as the words could do it by this article, give him such damages as will show that there is no foundation for the imputations that have been made.
Will you be good enough to consider your verdict, gentlemen?
The Verdict
The jury retired at 11.40, and returned into Court at 1.10.
Mr. Justice Wills: During the course of the hearing of this case there have been some attempts at an expression of feeling. I hope there will be no expression of any such sort when the verdict is given.
The Associate: Have you agreed on your verdict, gentlemen?
The Foreman of the Jury: We have.
The Associate: Do you find for the Plaintiff or for the Defendant?
The Foreman of the Jury: For the Plaintiff.
The Associate: With any damages?
The Foreman of the Jury: £300.
Mr. Hugo Young: I ask your Lordship for judgement.
Mr. Justice Wills: Yes.
"The Jesuit plot for the destruction of our liberties"
I. Bible Readings for the Protestant Alliance
(The quotations are from King James's Bible.)
"Ye shall be hated of all men for my name's sake. But when they persecute you in this city, flee ye into another: for verily I say unto you, Ye shall not have gone over the cities of Israel, till the Son of man be come. The disciple is not above his master, nor the servant above his lord. If they have called the master of the house Beelzebub, how much more shall they call them of his household?" (Matt. x. 22-25).
"Blessed are ye, when men shall hate you, and when they shall separate you from their company, and shall reproach you, and cast out your name as evil, for the Son of man's sake" (Luke vi. 22).
"If the world hate you, ye know that it hated me before it hated you. If ye were of the world, the world would love his own: but because ye are not of the world, but I have chosen you out of the world, therefore the world hateth you. If they have persecuted me, they will also persecute you: if they have kept my saying, they will keep yours also" (John xv. 18-20).
"As concerning this sect, we know that everywhere it is spoken against" (Acts xxviii. 22).
"Thou shalt not bear false witness against thy neighbour" (Exod. xx. 16).
II. A Word on Equivocation
It is equivocation to use words which have an element of truth in them, but are calculated and intended to mislead, of which practice the Protestant Alliance has just furnished a very edifying example. We have taken as our heading the title of a recent fly-sheet of theirs, which we henceforth refer to as P. A. These are P. A.'s words: "The Jesuits have published in their magazine, The Month, for October, 1889, a scheme containing what they describe as 'salutary measures,' which they hope to put in force if they gain the ascendancy in this country."
We naturally conclude that we have here an exposure of Jesuit hopes and purposes as they stood in 1889. No such thing. The Month for October, 1889, is open before us. On p. 184 we have an article, "A Jesuit Scheme for the Reformation of England." We find that the "Scheme" is a scheme drawn up by Father Parsons in the reign of Elizabeth, and presented by some one, some eighty years later, to James II. at his accession.
P. A. sets down seven points, implying that such are the aims of the present generation of living Jesuits in England. The first is the restoration of Church lands, on which The Month quotes without approving the opinion of Parsons, that the papal dispensation, granted under Queen Mary to the retainers of such lands, was invalid. The second is for "abolishing the law which makes it necessary that this Protestant nation shall be governed by a Protestant Sovereign," about which law Parsons is silent; and his silence is less surprising when we consider that the said law was not enacted till about a hundred years after his death. The Month is silent also.
Of the remaining five heads—a Catholic Parliament, suppression of heresy and heretical books, and the establishment of a military order and of the Inquisition—there is no trace whatever in the pages of The Month. The writer in The Month qualifies Parsons's proposals in general as "salutary measures"; he further says, "his constructive scheme is that of a good and prudent man"; and again, "he is very practical"; and "the main features of his scheme are of permanent interest, not merely as a historical study, but as affording some valuable suggestions for the guidance of Catholics."
This is the sum total of what The Month says in commendation of Parsons's Scheme as a whole. We are right, then, in saying that the element of fact in P. A.'s statement is slender enough, and very much in arrear of the impression which his words are calculated to convey of the avowed aims of the Society of Jesus as now existing in England. This practice we call equivocation.
III. A Word on Education
The best mark of an educated man is his power of estimating evidence. Let us suppose an attack made by a French writer on the character of the medical profession in this country, to the effect that English doctors generally connive at immoral practices. To prove this most serious charge against a reputable body of living men, not one word of contemporary evidence, oral or documentary, is adduced; no testimony of patients now living; no indication that the accuser is personally acquainted with any English physician, or has seen so much as the outside of a London hospital, or could understand a medical book if he got one into his hands: but what? A collection of extracts from the works of English medical writers of all sorts—two lines from one, three lines from another—compiled by order of the French Directory in 1797 on purpose to poison the mind of Europe against this country, with which France was then at war.
Such a book was written against the Society of Jesus, and sanctioned by the Parliament of Paris in 1762, in order to bring about the suppression of the Society. The work appeared in English in 1839, under the title of Principles of the Jesuits. Armed with such a venerable old blunderbuss; carefully avoiding anything on moral matters published by the Society in England in recent years; not inquiring what text-books are now used at Stonyhurst and St. Beuno's; shrinking from living Jesuits and their pupils as if they were adders—P. A. proves easily to his own satisfaction that "the Jesuits teach that EQUIVOCATION, LYING, THEFT, PARRICIDE, MURDER, are permissible under certain circumstances!!!"
This makes an interesting case as a study of evidence alleged, and thereby of education presumable. We are bound to suppose that the evidence alleged satisfies P. A.: else, as an honest man, he could not indite the conclusion. Thence we might be led to form some conjecture of the extent to which P. A. could be called an educated man, but we refrain. What interests us is the very low power of estimating evidence, and therefore the very low standard of education, which he presumes in the British public, notwithstanding the millions of money which we are spending on schools.
Just consider. The statement in question is proved by five references. One is to "Ligouri's [sic] Moral Theology, vol. ii. p. 308, 329, 330," &c. P. A.'s acquaintance with the authors whom he names, we should think from this quotation, must be much on a par with the Biblical lore of one who quoted "The Babel, p. 26," &c. Does he suppose that St. Alphonsus Liguori was a Jesuit? Has he any idea of the way in which it is usual, and indeed necessary, to quote St. Alphonsus? Has he ever seen his work?
P. A. goes on to mention the names of four Jesuit theologians, the latest of whom died in 1679: he knows them by the pages of the French work which we have mentioned: all the evidence he has to offer is the number of the page, thus: "Suarez—Extraits des Assertions, p. 300; Emmanuel Sa—ib., p. 349; Gobat—ib., p. 437; Fagundez—ib., p. 404, 411, 413," &c.
These are the entire references and the whole proof. He may have more than one reason for withholding the information what this Extraits des Assertions may mean.
Altogether an interesting study in Protestant Evidences!
About occasional parricide, we have taken the trouble to verify the reference as it is to be found in Principles of the Jesuits, p. 212. Gobat is there quoted as quoting Fagundez, to the effect that "it is lawful for a son to rejoice at the murder of his parent committed by himself in a state of drunkenness, on account of the great riches thence acquired by inheritance." On which saying of Fagundez, Gobat writes: "Since then it is to be supposed on the one hand that the parricide was blameless, as well from deficiency of deliberation caused by drunkenness, as through the absence of premeditation; and on the other that very great riches would result from this parricide, an effect which is either good or certainly not bad; it follows that the doctrine of Father Fagundez, which may seem a paradox, is true in theory, although it may be dangerous in practice."
Now let this speculation of Fagundez or Gobat be as pernicious as you please—we have no mind to pronounce upon it—still as a matter of evidence it is plain that they are both far away from saying that a son may ever under any circumstances make up his mind to kill his father. Still less is the entire Society of Jesus chargeable with the guilt of maintaining that parricide is permissible under certain circumstances. P. A., then, is deficient, or supposes his readers deficient, in the power of estimating evidence. That is, P. A. is either himself an ill-educated man, or he writes for the ill-educated.
Would it be possible for the L.C.C. to open to the scribes of the Protestant Alliance an Academy for Young Gentlemen, or shall we say for Old Women, whose education has been neglected?
IV. A Word on Manliness
We gather from official returns before us, giving names and addresses, that there were in England, Scotland, and Wales, on or about the 1st of January, 1898, just 583 Jesuits of all arms of the service. Of these not one is living in hiding. Every one is known by all about him, who care to observe him at all, for a Jesuit or Roman ecclesiastic of some sort. They are the most knowable body of men in the country. They have no wish to hide, and never will go into hiding till the Protestant Alliance comes to have things all its own way, puts the clock back, and re-enacts the Penal Laws.
If Government so willed, these 583 could all be paraded in Trafalgar Square next week—Government to bear the expenses of the show.
Now suppose the rumour spread that on the 5th November next these 583 intended to march upon the two Universities of Oxford and Cambridge, and put all the Protestants they found there to the sword. The police, we will suppose, is powerless, the army unreliable, and even the well-proved prowess of the Dons is for this occasion only in abeyance. Does any one expect that there would be a panic at those seats of learning? On the contrary, nothing would please the younger members of the University better than to see the Jesuits come on to the attack; the Undergraduates would be well able to protect themselves.
Now listen to the Protestant Alliance; "Fellow countrymen! These men [these redoubtable 583] now demand from Parliament such license as would enable them to rob us of our freedom of speech and destroy our Civil and Religious Liberties." How ever would they go about it? We had thought that John Bull was well able to protect himself! that the elephant would not tremble before a mouse! But it is not John Bull who trembles; only the Protestant Alliance has lost its wits.
Perhaps it is cruel to challenge a man when you see him in a "blue funk." But we will make one proposal, which calls not for any great exertion of manliness, and which, if accepted and brought to act, would go a long way to dissipate the alarm of the Protestant Alliance. Let any one member of the body—we will say, the Secretary—let him call upon any Cabinet Minister, or ex-Cabinet Minister, even upon Sir William Harcourt himself, and ask him, upon his honour as a gentleman, to give a true answer to this question: Has the behaviour of the Jesuits in this country ever caused your Cabinet five minutes' anxiety and alarm?
We have no doubt of the answer, that the Society of Jesus, whatever it may have been in the past, is now quite a negligeable quantity in the political world.
Then why keep harmless men under the ban of the law? And why, oh why, after 50,000 of the P.A. fly-sheets misrepresenting them "have already been freely circulated," as the advertisement tells us, require "funds to circulate 20,000,000 copies throughout the country"? There is a line of Virgil—
Non tali auxilio, nec defensoribus istis. ("Spare me such aid, and send no such defenders.")
If we had the cause of Protestantism at heart, we should apply this line to the Protestant Alliance and its scribes, until the L.C.C. has provided for their better education. But they propose to cover the country with twenty million monuments of their stupidity—or worse.